Nas, Havoc - The Set Up lyrics

Uhh (yeah, yeah, yeah)
QB since 1933 (No doubt)
To '96 ('96, motherfucker) check this shit
('96, Escobar 600) check this shit!

My mind set, son got wet, I'm vexed really
They snatched off his Rolex
Smacked his bitch silly
Why niggas actin' illy? Word to Will
He 'bout to feel it
I feel it, he should've been dealt wit' it
Them niggas sour
They put too much flour in they coke
And got the nerve to wonder why they broke!
While we was gleamin', niggas was schemin'
Seen the ill Bimmers beamin'
Triple-beam and doublin' CREAM
Had 'em fiendin'
To get they fingers on a dose ah
I called Sosa
"Sosa, these niggas hit the God
Bring the toaster
Meet me in the 'Bridge, I'm 'bout to go loca"
Left my rat beggin' me to stay and stroke her
He came through wit' two fly
Bitches Venus and Vicious
Wit' two MAC's inside the Volvo
What up, God? I'm still sober
I need some Henn' to bend me over
My nigga Hav' gotta soldier
It's gettin' down, it's goin' down, kid
(I got this, I got this)
I heard he might not live
I'm holdin' back tears
Told these broads to put it in gear
Wit' two females that don't smile
Diggin' they style yo! What up
Son? These niggas done started somethin' wild
You know the clique well
Rhamel with the gold in his grill
Tried to get a name holdin' the steel
I paid attention to the females
Maintained bitches when it get real
Sos' pulled me close and told me the deal
He said both hoes'll peel
Spray shots and reload
And still handle the wheel
Point 'em out, smoke a Phill' and chill
I laid back Escobar status
Knowin' The Firm got it cornered
We on it, shit we was born wit'

Spark the lye, QBC yo, it's do or die
In this, business of trifeness
I finesse this, Boyardee, we chef shit
Perfect shit
Albert Einstein minds connect wit'
Dangerous sons, step back, let the TEC lift
Lift you up
Bless you with a shorty then we set you up
Spark the lye, QBC yo, it's do or die
In this, business of trifeness
I finesse this, Boyardee, we chef shit
Perfect shit
Albert Einstein minds connect wit'
Dangerous sons, step back, let the TEC lift
Lift you up
Bless you with a shorty then we set you up

Hold it right there! Pull over!
That nigga right there inside the Rover
I knew he'd be right here, I told ya
Let's get him now, look at him smile
Ice Bulova
Polo pullover, big links and rockin' boulders
He's stuntin' after he left my man like that
Without a fair chance to fight back
But I'll be right back! He never seen us
Sos' gave the MAC to Venus and Vicious
Lookin' delicious, handle yo' bidness
And step to him, shake your ass
Try to screw him
Do what ya gotta do to get to him
A tight Parasuco wit' young faces can
Turn niggas Buttafuoco of all ages
They was amused by the way they walked
Way they talked
Only if they knew these girls
Had sprayed New York
If they had to, heard him ask Venus
"Could I have you?"
He jumped out the Jeep, heard
Her tell him, "Don't grab, boo"
They started chattin'
Was only 'bout a minute flat when
They jumped in the back of the Jeep laughin'
We followed 'em pollyin'
He thought the hoes were Somalian
Probably when they hit the Holiday Inn
I grabbed the phone and called
The Mobb and 'em
We laid low about an hour or so
These bitches movin' too slow
We both holdin'
What if them wild hoes started foldin'?
Sosa said, "Say no more", we started rollin'
Before we got in, they must have shot him
Security wildin', there the girls
Go, hurry up, we out in
The 940, me, Sosa and two shorties
The punk niggas got murdered in the orgy!

Spark the lye, QBC yo, it's do or die
In this, business of trifeness
We finesse this, Boyardee, we chef shit
Perfect shit
Albert Einstein minds connect wit'
Dangerous sons, step back, let the TEC lift
Lift you up
Bless you with a shorty then we set you up

QBC, Queensbridge, motherfucker
Ropin' niggas up 'Cause our clique is thick
Another day, another dollar
More money, more murder
Fuck this shit, QB up in the house