"I got you stuck off the realness, we be the infamous
You heard of us, official Queensbridge murderers
The Mobb comes equipped for warfare, beware
Of my crime family who got 'nough shots to share
For all of those, who wanna profile and pose
Rock you in your face, stab your brain with your nose bone
You all alone in these streets, cousin
Every man for they self in this land we be gunning
And keep them shook crews running, like they supposed to
They come around but they never come close to
I can see it inside your face, you're in the wrong place
Cowards like you just get they whole body laced up
With bullet holes and such
Speak the wrong words, man, and you will get touched
You can put your whole army against my team and
I guarantee you it'll be your very last time breathing
Your simple words just don't move me, you're minor, we're major
You're all up in the game and don't deserve to be a player
Don't make me have to call your name out
Your crew is featherweight, my gunshots'll make you levitate
I'm only nineteen but my mind is old
And when the things get for real my warm heart turns cold
Another- deceased, another story gets told
It ain't nothing really, ayo Dun, spark the Philly
So I can get my mind off these yellowbacked-
Why they still alive? I don't know, go figure
Meanwhile back in Queens the realness and foundation
If I die, I couldn't choose a better location
When the slugs penetrate, you feel a burning sensation
Getting closer to God in a tight situation
Now, take these words home and think it through
Or the next rhyme I write might be about you"