Questions ft. Royal Flush
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Ayo, Flush, you've been around for a real long time
Let me ask you a question, do you still write rhymes?
Nigga, I write commandments
Pen hit the paper, the fans flip
I talk shit, reason why New York won't quit
Every time that I spit, you know I'm throwing some hot shit
The West Coast had it locked, so you called on a locksmith
Then Worldwide came out so Queens could pop shit
And I really did sell coke, so I talk about mad bricks
I got a little paper, so you know I push mad whips
When "Iced Out" came out, showed y'all how to ice shit
Now the world running around, talking 'bout Flush is the nicest
Took some time off, had a lot of work, I had to get it off
Label me the street boss, a lot of rappers fell off
I watch, laugh, and listen, waiting for my time to get it
My lifestyle is bitten, take it, write a movie with it
And to y'all haters and y'all corny critics
'Cause what I've put in this rap game
A lot of rappers wouldn't have lived it
Dig it?
Aight, back up, back up
Uh, yes, uh, Flush?
What?
Uh, is it true that, uh, you had a divuโa divorce with your wife?
Heh, you fuck right, I got rid of that bitch, anything else?
Yes, yes, uh, what do you feel about the rap game?
Huh?!
Alright, anybody wanna ask me any more questions?
How 'bout you?
Yeah, I felt that, Flush
Worldwide, "Iced Out" was hot
So let me ask you a question, do you hustle on the block?
Say what, muhfucka?
I'm the reason why the cops don't talk
And wanna bust muhfucka
The only nigga in Queens with dust, muhfucka
And I really live this shit, so I don't trust muhfuckas
Let me talk to you suckas, you fake-ass hustlas
Give bricks for seventeen, so your boss is my customer
You little-ass nigga, with the mighty midget figures
While you was playing Nintendo, I was fucking up the dishes
Had a bad bitch, butt-ass, bagging work in the kitchen
The dope, call it Candy Girl 'cause it felt like New Edition
And I still feel like bait when the Feds is out fishing
And without this rap shit, my kids got toys and tuition
And I'm never gonna snitch, I'd rather escape from prison
He talk shit, we hit him, he got shine, we stick him
He got dough, we get him, he fuck hoes, we send them
And still be out of town with them bricks in the rental