Queens, Ny Lyrics - 50 Cent

[Paris - Verse 1] 

I string 'em along with some acoustic guitar shit 

Tell 'em park it in front of Neiman Marcus 

I need that, I need that 

When we gon chill, where the weed at, the weed at? 

Said you got a Spider, where them keys at? Them keys at? 

Living on em, shitted on em 

I'm hotter than the sauna, pull off in a Zonda 

Calm yourself before you get dealt with 

Had the medics working on your pelvis 

DOA there's nothing left to say 

Went down like an hourglass 

Paris 1st class regardless 

Fake bitches not responsive 

Me, I'm in the streets rocking a piece that's retarded 

In the diamond district with Jacob 

Making loads, you little cons wanna save up 

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[Hook - 50 Cent] 

We come from Queens where we are taught to handle beef on our own 

You call up cops, we get it poppin, we be out with the chrome 

Where Brooklyn at? Where the Bronx at? Where Harlem at? 

Where Statan at? 

Where Brooklyn at? Where the Bronx at? Where Harlem at? 

Where Yonkers at? 

[Paris - Verse 2] 

All my men is caked up, stingy with the snatch 

Cause niggas get too attached 

Sleep with the ratchet under the mattress 

Natural, my cat got a 5 o'clock shadow 

It don't matter cause niggas is still mad at you 

Chicks is getting fucked 

I'm on top, that's how I bop, luxury every stop 

Eat it or beat it, you should already know my friend 

You're not needed: next nigga remix 

Word to everything on some G shit 

Fuck with me, give me a reason 

Feel something hot, change the whole season 

For the greater good, make you fix your demons 

It's the loca, caramel mocha 

Bitches is on their sofa, I'm taking over 

You now rocking with the best mama 

Bombshell hood hottie in the egg-shell Bugatti, oh! 

Photos 

[Hook] 

[50 Cent - Verse 3] 

Ease on em, squeeze on em 

Move, dump the .22, three's on 'em 

Breeze on 'em, lit the trees on 'em 

In the bandanna, make 'em think it's gang-related 

We on that gritty shit, the city shit 

New York New York 

You come through on some pretty shit 

Get outlined in chalk 

I get busy, I get busy, I'm strapped now 

I'm tryna say I want you motherf-ckers to act out 

I had that ass sprintin' towards the door when I back out 

Don't do it, don't you do it 

Don't make me stick to you 

Holy moly, ya Rolly, icy oyster perpetual 

Diamonds blinking like ass, take a look at it 

I'm a regular bad man, they say I'm a mad man 

Fuck a mask and gloves 

I let it on bare hands 

We come from a war zone, them Southside streets 

Where anything and everything get gunned to eat 

[Hook]