[Nas:]
Hats off, to the rich ones who flash and floss
Pour some liquors out to my dogs trapped up north
Reminisce on the deceased who no longer exist
Only wishin’ we could bring them back with songs like dis
Old flicks on us chillin’ with the old time click
Holdin’ nines, thoughts of death, not our lives we risk
How it use to be, early morn, pumpin’ in shifts
Jakes with pale faces in the night is the scariest
They handcuff me, they knew my government and alias
Various calls were made up for awarin’ us
The D’s in the marked vans and cabs
In our land, hood rats get stabbed by niggas who forty
Turnin’ out young lady’s and make them make thotties
Got them coked out, the hood is bugged out
Thug babies, famous in they strollers
Before they walk they knew the hood talk
It’s in the air of New York
So everybody’ll pick em up, kissing em up
Treatin’ them like they own, in dis hood we call home
Fist fight till we grown and these guns come out
Circle of life, it’s kinda deep how we end out

Yo them niggas that wanted beef before
Don’t want no beef no mo
Now that they know who I rep with
QB nigga!
Who I rep with
QB nigga!
QB nigga!

[50 Cent:]
Ya’ll niggas better sober up before ya’ll speak to me, don’t come at me high
Last rapper that raised his voice to me, got jabbed in the eye
Now if I say I’m gone get you, I’mma get you
On the strength of the inf, from long range I can hit you
You find out them niggas who with you ain’t even with you
After the gem stars split you, you need an MD to stitch you
Peep how I use words to paint pictures
Peep how I got niggas with bodies askin’ me for ten cents to got hit you
Look my name up in the law book, Curtis Jackson
Known for creatin’ action, by rapidly clappin’
Nigga I stay strapped, so much I nickname gats
Got a tech I call Tina, a nine I name Nina
Two niggas went to see Allah after they seen her
This QB shit, ’bout to take me to the next level
Next crib, next Benz, next bitch, next bezel
It’s that real

Yo them niggas that wanted beef before
Don’t want no beef no mo
Now that they know who I rep with
QB nigga!
Who I rep with
QB nigga!
QB nigga!

[Millennium Thug:]
Yo, aiyyo, who the fuck wanna war
I got a four four, pierce ya’ll niggas jaw
You see me thugged out, iced out, Guinness Stout
Hopin’ out the Range with the gun out
Smack your man down, you ran off
I was gonna hit him with two, I left some for you
I put four, QB rugged and raw
I got somethin’ for these rap cats, fish held back gats
Scope with a beam on it, loc put your cream on it
Shine don’t scheme on it, I make your dream about it
Forever, whatever whatever get gully
Shots thru your leather and clothe, with your skelly off
Break ya’ll clowns off
Yo hollow tips will flood your jacket, I don’t give a fuck who you be
Millennium Thug, now who the fuck want it with me

[Horse:]
I mastered the art of slap boxin’ niggas in the dark
QB’s big man, Horse of the Bravehearts
I’m the Sasquash of rap, collector of gats
Testin’ macks at your bulletproof vests and hats

[Jungle:]
How ’bout that, guns bust off, I bust back
When trucks backfire, I bust back
How ’bout that, stomp a muhfuckin’ rib out your back
Ya’ll niggas ain’t gangsta rap, ya’ll click like Josey and the Pussycats
When we come around the front, stop

[Wiz:]
Uh huh, ya’ll can’t fuck around ya’ll get dropped
When guns pop, who’s tellin’
Twin barrel nines wavin’ and yellin’, QB nigga what
Two-time felon, straight to the melon, straight to the dome
Send a nigga back, get the shells, go straight home
Never slip, my Ill Will to survive is so deep
Can’t sleep, cousin to death, makes me weak
Pullin’ triggers at my shadow, Bravehearts pop up
Wiz, Jungle and Horse shot your block up

Yo them niggas that wanted beef before
Don’t want no beef no mo
Now that they know who I rep with
QB nigga!
Who I rep with
QB nigga!
QB nigga!