Artist: Nas
Album:  Life Is Good
Song:   A Queens Story
Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com
 
[Nas]
Uh, rest in peace to Black Just
Ridin through Jamaica Queens in his black truck
Timbs was forty below, waves to the side of his dome
Definition of GOOD nigga, yo
Gangsters don't die, niggaz only become immortal
Angels don't only fly, they walk right before you, in front of you 
It's foul what this money could do, cash corrupts the loyal
I hung with E-Money too, the fuckin truth! 
Fuckin with Stretch from Live Squad
I could've DIED the same night that Stretch died
I just got out of his ride
He dropped me off and drove to Springfield
November 30th, another Queens king killed, it fucked me up, y'all!
I was just tryin to make it with Steve Stoute
The legal way, drug-free route
Back in the days, they was sleepin on us
Brooklyn keep on takin it, Manhattan keep on makin it
Tryin to leave Queens out
But we was pullin them Beems out, them M3's out
Pumpin bringin them D's out
Rastas sellin chocolate weed inside of a weed house
Colosseum downstairs, gold teeth mouth
Astoria warriors, 8th Street, twin buildings
Vernon, can't even count the Livingston children
Justice in Ravenswood, nice neighborhood
Caught sleepin out there, be a wrap though
Bridge niggaz, be up in Petey's ten racks, yo
A simple bet on a serious cash flow
Get money Manolo, welcome home Castro
Queensbridge unified all I ask for
Let's do it for DU, say waddup to Snatch, yo
I just salute REAL niggaz when I pass through
Uh...
 
[Nas]
Niggaz is very hungry for that bank robbery
Bury money, tryin to get to a Benz from a Hyundai
The Queens Courthouse right next to the cemetery
Niggaz rap sheets look like obituaries
You be starvin in Kew Gardens
Bolognas and milk from a small carton
You could still feel chills from the team
On 118, my nigga Ben fly by like it's a dream
His face on his Shirt Kings
Laced in a pinky ring, in his black Benz murkin
Back when Black Rock & Ron was on the map
Cheeba in yellow sacks, dope sold in laundromats
Thugs bark, gettin amped from weed
Over the heart of champions, see
Ever since back then, a nigga been about the dough
("You all know how the story GO~!" <- Run-D.M.C.)
 
[Nas]
Any other real niggaz in the world besides us, I ask
Probably is, but odds are we'll never cross paths
Put yo' glass high, if you made it out the stash spot
And here to tell a story, and celebrate the glory
Drinks in the air for my niggaz not here
This how we do, I see you D.U.
Queens to the heavens, salute the hood legends
Crack the Patrón, Hennessy and Glenlivets
Champagne bottles, drownin out the sorrows
Hope the memories'll get us through tomorrow
I'm a real OG, cause back in nine-three
Niggaz couldn't fuck with me, sippin 'gnac since I was little
Laid back in a rental, mouth shinin 
Eddie's gold caps all up in the dental
Nigga gettin money now but you know I'm STILL mental, but not simple
Put yo' glass high, if you made it out the stash spot
And here to tell your story, and celebrate the glory
Drinks in the air for my niggaz not here
This for the fallen soldiers, hold it down I told ya
Pop another bottle, and keep the smoke rollin
 
[Nas]
Watch the con realist, channel his mom's spirit
Goosebumps cover me, mother's here, I could feel her
Blood of Christ covers me, our savior and healer
Drug prices up or down, I know a few dealers
And some accident murderers, they act like they killed on purpose
Liars brag they put work in
You ain't mean to murk him, your gun's a virgin
Better stay on point, if not it's curtains
Bebo Posse reincarnated through me probably
If music money didn't stop me
I never claimed to be the toughest
Though I'm to blame for a few faces reconstructed
It's the game that we was stuck with
Now I'm the only black in the club, with rich Yuppie kids
Sad thing, this is the top, but where the hustlers went?
No familiar faces around, ain't gotta grab the musket
It's all safe and sound, champagne by the bucket
Where them niggaz I shouted out on my first shit?
Bo cookin blow, fuckin slay that, where Turkey went
Old videos show niggaz that was murdered since
Another reason to get further bent
Put yo' glass high, if you made it out the stash spot
And here to tell your story and celebrate the glory
Drinks in the air for my niggaz not here
This for the fallen soldiers, hold it down I told ya
Pop another bottle, and keep the smoke rollin