The Set Up Lyrics - Havoc

Uhh. (yeah, yeah, yeah) 

Q.B. since 1933 (know dat) 

To nine-six (nine-six motherfucker) 

Check the shit 

[Havoc] 

Nine-six 

Escobar 600 

[Nas] 

Check the shit 

My mindset, son got wet, I'm vexed really 

They snatched off his Rolex, smacked his bitch silly 

Why niggaz actin illy word to Will he bout to feel it 

I feel it, he shoulda been dealt wit it 

Them niggas sour, they put to much flour in they coke 

And got the nerve to wonder WHY THEY BROKE 

While we was gleaming, niggaz was scheaming 

Seen the ill Beamers beaming 

Triple-beam and doubling cream, had em fiending 

to get they fingers on the dosa, I called Sosa 

Sosa, these niggaz hit the God, bring the toaster 

Meet me in the 'Bridge I'm bout to go loca 

Left my 'rat begging me to stay and stroke her 

He came through with two fly bitches, Venus and Vicious 

wit two macs inside the Volvo, what up God, I'm still sober 

I need some Henn' to bend me over 

My nigga Hav got a soldier 

It's getting down it's going down kid (I got this, I got this) 

I heard he might not live, I'm holding back tears 

Told these broads, to put it in gear 

with two females that don't smile digging they style yo 

Whattup son, these niggas done started something wild 

You know the clique well, Ramel with the gold in his grill 

Tried to get a name holding the steel, I paid attention to the females 

Maintain 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 Phil' then chill 

I layed back Escobar status, knowing The Firm got it cornered 

We on it, shit we was born wit 

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Chorus: Havoc 

Spark the lye, Q.B.C. yo it's do or die 

In this, business and trifeness 

I finesse this, for R.D., we chef shit 

Perfect shit, Albert Einstein minds connect wit 

dangerous sons, step back let the Tec lift 

Lift you up, bless you wit a shorty then we set you up 

Spark the lye, Q.B.C. yo it's do or die 

In this, business and trifeness 

We finesse this, for R.D., we chef shit 

Perfect shit, Albert Einstein minds connect wit 

dangerous sons, step back let the Tec lift 

Lift you up, bless you wit a shorty then we set you up 

Photos 

[Nas] 

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 rocking boulders 

He's stunting, 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, looking delicious, handle yo' bidness 

and step to him, shake yo' ass try to screw him 

Do what ya gotta do to get to him 

A tight Parasuco, with 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'd spray New York 

if they had to, heard him ask Venus, "Could I have you?" 

He jumped out a Jeep, heard her tell him, "Don't grab Boo" 

They started chatting, was only bout a minute, flat when 

they jumped in the back of the Jeep laughing 

We followed them pollying, he thought the hoes were Somalian 

Probably wanted to hit the Holiday Inn 

I grabbed the phone and called the Mobb and them 

We layed low about a hour or so, these bitches moving too slow 

We both holding, what if them wild hoes started folding? 

Sosa, said say no more, we started rolling 

Before we got in they must have shot him, security wilding 

There the girls go, hurry up we out in 

the 940, me Sosa and two shorties 

The punk niggas got murdered in the orgy 

Chorus 1/2 

[unknown lady - not credited] 

Q.B.C. 

QueensBridge motherfucker 

Roping niggas up 

Cause our click is thick 

Another day another dollar 

More money, more murder 

Fuck this shit, Q.B. up in the house