NAS – Daughters

I call it
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah, Yeah

I call it ”Shit for Niggas with Daughters”
I call this ”Shit for Niggas with Daughters”
I call this ”Shit for Niggas with Daughters”
I call this ”Shit for Niggas with Daughters”

I saw my daughter send a letter to some boy her age
Who locked up, first I regretted it then caught my rage, like
How could I not protect her from this awful phase?
Never tried to hide who I was, she was taught and raised like
A princess, but while I’m on stage I can’t leave her defenseless
Plus she’s seen me switching women, pops was on some pimp shit
She heard stories of her daddy thuggin’
So if her husband is a gangster can’t be mad, I love her
Never, for her I want better, homie in jail- dead that
Wait till he come home, you can see where his head’s at
Niggas got game, they be tryna live
He seen your mama crib, plus I’m sure he know who your father is
Although you real, plus a honest kid
Don’t think I’m slow, I know you probably had that chronic lit
You 17, I got a problem with it
She looked at me like I’m not the cleanest father figure but she rocking with it

This for niggas wit’ daughters
I call this, shit for niggas wit’ daughters
Yo, not sayin’ that our sons are less important

Shit for niggas wit’ daughters
I call this, shit for niggas wit’ daughters
I call it, not sayin’ that our sons are less important

This morning I got a call, nearly split my wig
This social network said ”Nas go and get ya kid”
She’s on Twitter, I know she ain’t gon post no pic
Of herself underdressed, no inappropriate shit, right
Her mother cried when she answered
Said she don’t know what got inside this child’s mind, she planted
A box of condoms on her dresser then she Instagrammed it
At this point I realized I ain’t the strictest parent
I’m too loose, I’m too cool with her
Shoulda drove on time to school with her
I thought I dropped enough jewels on her
Took her from private school, so she can get a balance
To public school, they too nurture teen talents
They grow fast
One day she’s ya little princess, next day she talking boy business
What is this?
They say the coolest playas and foulest heart breakers in the world
God get’s us back, he makes us have precious little girls

And I ain’t tryna mess ya thing up
But I just wanna see you dream up
I finally understand
It ain’t easy to raise a girl as a single man
Nah, the way mothers feel for they sons, how fathers feel for they daughters
When he date, he straight, chip off his own papa
When she date, we wait behind the door with the sawed off
Cuz we think no one is good enough for our daughters
Love

NAS – You Wouldn’t Understand

Yeah, Harlem, Bronx, Brooklyn
Let’s make a bet, I know the reason you ain’t make it yet
You say you set, but you ain’t see the tedious ingredients
That go inside of a rider, you hiding from problems and
You never knew how to make dollars
You couldn’t make orders at a drive-through McDonald’s
I was fly at the Apollo with black Jason, ’89 with a bottle
Niggas jealous of Jason, dark green seven forty, no tint
Rollie on wrist, gleaming he rock the baldy
Used to ride with him to Brooklyn, Lewis, and Halsey
Cop chocolate thai, Vernon style and burn it down
My nigga hype in the federal joint, verdict out
20 years getting money in the dirty south
That’s alleged, you see my nigga’s a stand up dude
So I’m yelling free my nigga
My nephew godfather Malik, he jammed up too
For what his hands usually call for, but he ain’t do it

Who you are ain’t in the recipe to what I am
Cause where I’m from, man, what I see
You wouldn’t understand where I been and what I do
No matter how you try you never can
Cause where I’m from and what I see
You wouldn’t understand where I been, where I been

You ever been on the other end of a robber’s revolver?
Not me, call me Lucky Nas Casalana
All been shot in the medulla oblongata and survived
And praised God with a bullet, I never collided
Some did and they lived, I salute the gods
Moet spilling, splash my mistake on my Timb boots for y’all
N.Y. nigga, Adidas, jogging suit
Shelltoes, slim, fly nigga
Hudson River, rent a boat, t-shirt with a dinner coat
A vintage Fila like I’m the ghost of Domencio
On any day getting throwed in a tinted vehicle
Like a old BK gangsta, but I’m the CEO
Of Nasty Nas Enterprise, mastermind, made men
My success symbolizes loyalty, great friends
Dedication, hard work, routine builds character
In a world full of snakes, rats and scavengers
Never make choices out of desperation, I think through it
Break through walls like Pink Floyd
And drink fluids of all kind of alcohol, y’all
Vineyards in France, yachts out in Cannes

Who you are ain’t in the recipe to what I am
Cause where I’m from, man, what I see
You wouldn’t understand where I been and what I do
No matter how you try you never can
Cause where I’m from and what I see
You wouldn’t understand where I been, where I been

Now holla at a millionaire
Rollie, Hublot and Audemar, deciding which one to wear
Who to screw, what to drive, 550 with the cream guts inside
Or the Super Sport Range truck is fly
Diamond ring on my knuckles like fire, bitch
Gat’s on us, I don’t really trust these guys
Spend a couple bucks a night on bottles on cuties
If she beautiful, the lustful type, I’ll hit it and bust inside
Fuck it, I’ma die one day, they gon’ probably make that day a holiday
Until then, let’s go on a shopping spree
Speaking for my real niggas, only OGs
Certified who kill niggas when put in that seat
But tonight we on chill, nigga, chill mode
Spill more Spades, listen to Jeezy and Hov, some Rozay
It’s like we always on the grind with no brakes
So tonight we gon’ act like we on vacation with this on rotation

Who you are ain’t in the recipe to what I am (word)
Cause where I’m from, man, what I see
You wouldn’t understand where I been and what I do
(Y’all wouldn’t understand)
No matter how you try you never can
(You wouldn’t last a day in my shoes, homie)
Cause where I’m from and what I see (yeah)
You wouldn’t understand where I been, where I been

True B nigga, yeah
For my hood niggas, yeah, yeah
To my man Eric B., what up, yeah
The whole city, I see you
To my man Big Slate in the fed joint
My man Spunk, free my niggas
All my niggas, yeah
Club Vernon, I see you
I see you, yeah
And Baltum, I see you

NAS – You’re The Man

Uh uh, yo
They plan was to knock me out the top of the game
But I overstand they truth is all lame
I hold cannons that shoot balls of flames
Right in they fat mouth then I carve my name
Nas – too real, Nas – true king
It’s however you feel, g’head, you swing
Your arms too short to box with god
I don’t kill soloists only kill squads
Fame went to they head, so now it’s “Fuck Nas”
Yesterday you begged for a deal, today you tough guys
I seen it comin
Soon as I popped my first bottle I spotted my enemies tryna’ do what I do
Came in with my style, so I fathered you
I kept changin on the world since “…Barbeque”
Now you wanna hang with niggas I hung with
Fuck bitches I hit, it’s funny I once said…
If I, ever make a record
I take a check and put something away for a rainy day to make my exit
But look at me now, ten years deep
Since the project, ??
I never asked to be top of rap’s elite
Just a ghetto child tryna’ learn the traps of the streets
But look at me now

[Chorus]
“You’re the man” “You’re the man”
“You’re the man” “You’re the man”
“You’re the man” “You’re the man”
“You’re the man” “You’re the man”
“You’re the man” “You’re the man”

But wait a sec’, give me time to explain, women and fast cars
And diamond rings can poison a rap star
It’s suicidal, how I smoke in so much la’
I saw a dead bird flyin through a broken sky
Wish I could flap wings and fly away
To where black kings and Ghana stay
So I could get on my flesh right away
But that’ll be the day when it’s peace
When my gat don’t need to spray
When these streets are safe to play
Sex with death, indulge in these women
Vision my own skeleton swimmin in eternal fire
Broads play with pentagrams in they vagina
Like the Exorcist, then they gave birth to my seeds
I beg for God’s help, why they love hurtin me?
I’m your disciple, a thug certainly
I’m the N the A to the S-I-R
If I wasn’t I must’ve been Escobar
Forty-five in my waist, starin at my reflection
In the mirror, sittin still in the chair like my conception
When everything around me got cloudy, the chair became a king’s throne
My destiny found me
It was clear why the struggle was so painful
Metamorphosis, this is what I changed to
And God, I’m so thankful

[Chorus to fade]

NAS feat. Ginuwine – You Owe Me

[Nas]
Uh, it’s real, it’s real, it’s real
Uh, uh, owe me back, uh shorty
Shorty, what up, huh?
Come on

[1 - Ginuwine]
Shorty, say what’s your price
Just to back it up
You can hold my ice
Now let’s say you owe me something

[Nas]
Yeah, owe me back like you owe your tax
Owe me back like forty acres to Blacks
Pay me back when you shake it like that girl

[2 - Ginuwine]
Shorty, say what’s your price
Just to back it up
You can hold my ice
Now let’s say you owe, owe, owe

[Nas]
Yeah owe me back like you owe your rent
Owe me back like its money I spent
Pay me back when you shake it again

The don, all the time, with all the shine
You small time, I ball with mine
Links, minks, Bentley, it’s all with mine
My jams bump out to the borderline
UK hot with it, blew spots with it
Every continent love when I spit it
Corners to blocks, even the cops feel it
Brothas on lockdown on their cots feel it
It’s real in the field the Last Mohican
Who survived in the streets and did something decent
Now I got plans to buy the whole hood
Legit’ now, I ain’t gotta lie to no judge
I make hits now, money I flip now
Hood fella every honey wanna kiss now
I lit up my neck, pinkie, and wrist now
So girls everywhere, this is how we get down

[Repeat 1]

[3 - Ginuwine]
Shorty, say what’s your price
Just to back it up
You can hold my ice
Now let’s say you owe, owe, owe

[Nas]
Yeah owe me back like you owe your rent
Owe me back like its money I lent
Pay me back when you shake it again

[Nas]
Play to win, girls in the club moving
I get ‘em real hot, my songs seduce ‘em
I flow, I’m so mysterious
Nas, and Nasty’s the alias
Everything platinum I glow
Cadillac trucks pulling up to the do’
On top out the car, lounge at the bar
We spent a thou’, we wild, look at how rowdy we are
Feel like a million dollars, feel me holler
To the max with the Benz and chrome wheeled Impalas
Thugs and renta’s, to the playas and ballers
Sexy mamas, fly ladies lookin’ proper
Look good enough to be taken shoppin’
Earrings, bracelets, now you rocking
Your body’s so nice that I give you this option
Let you wear my big chain if we get it popping

[Repeat 1]
[Repeat 2]

[Ginuwine]
I put the shackles on your feet (You owe me)
I think you owe me some (You owe me)
The shackles on your feet (You owe Nas)
I think you owe me some (You owe Ginuwine)
(You owe Timbaland, you owe me)

[Nas]
Lock you down baby, you know what you owe me
Mack like Goldie, it’s the same story
Let you hold something, you spending it right
Know where you gon’ be by the end of the night
Make it bounce, shake it, move it around
Wiggle it a little bit, throw it to the south
Fantasizing me inside and you riding
Throw it like a stallion, you wearin’ my medallion

[Ginuwine]
Shorty, say what’s your price
Just to back it up
You can hold my ice
Now let’s say you owe me something
(You owe me something, oh yeah)
I said shorty, say what’s your price
(You owe Nas)
Just to back it up
(You owe Ginuwine)
You can hold my ice
(You owe Timbaland)
Now let’s say you owe
You owe us something, baby
Oh, oh, oh

NAS – World’s An Addiction

Lies and the pain
Betrayal, life

In danger’s face
Look what you’re facing, gave your heart away
And all the remedies couldn’t ease the pain
All the hurt and betrayal; need to get away
In a world so cold
You gain your life just to lose your soul
Never thinking twice ’bout what the future holds
All the lies and the games not worth fighting for

The world is an addiction, serving up a fix
The world is an addiction, way too much for me

Snitches and rapists in the street, crime to the fullest
Asking niggas if they got any extra nine bullets
They deny me that, they know the bullets they loan me
Be the same ones that probably had them lying flat stretched out
Letter T
It’s better to dead a beef than let it breathe, then we don’t succeed
Cause then you gotta murder dummies
Waste your time, they allergic to money
I’m never squeamish to blood, we can thug, and get out of hand,
What’s the options?
Only conclusion is shooting, bullets poppin’,
Hoodlums dropping, fear any day that the feds will come knocking
Was young and nervous, asking myself what’s my purpose,
In the back of a patty wagon, bracelets, aching me
Pigs ignoring, I’m asking what precinct they taking me
These cops can’t relate to me, death to prison, empty vacancy

The world is an addiction, serving up a fix
The world is an addiction, way too much for me

Thou shall not be selfish, real nigga commandments,
Know a billionaire he has everything but a fam,
Guess how angry this man gets, had so many bad chicks in his bed,
Strange sex, same sex, has addictions that are sadistic
Chain of events, habits, he puts cocaine on his prick and acts sick
Self-esteem needs boosting alcohol consumption
Nicotine fusion, some athletes juicing
Pastors quote biblical chapters, Psalms
All along he’s into bestiality porn,
And it’s wrong, so I keep the Cali weed in the bong
And I’m strong, but the female anatomy got me sprung
And these women need shoes and bags, cars and condos
Fine clothes, and these fiends needs to get high, so they find dough
To mainline dope, and ya’ll know

The world is an addiction, serving up a fix
The world is an addiction, way too much for me

So many vices, habits, mine of course, bad chicks
My response to any advice on what is the essentials of life
I’m just rebellious, not selfish,
Guess we all share different definitions of what wealth is
I need the best things in life that’s women, that’s cars
Cigars in Venice, bottle on ice, that’s priceless
The other night, just in the emergency room
A patient said she needs to see a doctor soon
Doctor busy operating on a lady who’s sedated
He can barely concentrate, cause he’s newly separated
His estranged wife likes entertaining her acquaintance
In the house they were married in, mad people waiting
Some young, some old, heads and stomachs aching
Filling out an application, cause they all need medication
But the doctor need love or a quick vacation, calling up his travel agent
Same time, premeditating murdering his ex wife
Life, savage ain’t it
Some need Xanax, just to maintain it
We all need faith cause the world keep changing
Let go of the illusion, start some restraining

Just hold on (just hold on)
Just hold on (just hold on)
Just hold on (just hold on)
Just hold on (just hold on)
Just hold on (just hold on)
Just hold on (just hold on)
Just hold on (just hold on)
Just hold on

NAS feat. Cocaine 80s – Where’s The Love

[Verse 1: Nas]
At times I window watch at the Wynn hotel
Lots of thinking happens in life, will I win or fail?
Mind of a shooter, CFO also
Ethiopian food flown in, it’s unlawful
Money is attractive, honey dress strapless
Agent Provocateur underwear: she’s classic
Stroll up in the party: titanium black car
Romanian ladies like Casablanca, Casbah
‘Cept we in the VIP area, that’s ours
You know the real rap gods, typical trap star turned rap star
These old heads got stories, the days they was kings
I pray secret indictments don’t take away their dreams
You 16, you could do 20, come home young
Catch 20 years when you 40? Holmes, you’re done
What have we become? Rap stars from trap stars
Black gods to Ansars to Sunnis back to goonies
A 360 in the streets real grizzly
Shooters is cold, kid, the old shit was learning
Student enrollment to focus, yet hooligans roll with
Toasters to pop your medullas off of your shoulders
This ain’t the Truman Show; it’s the human show
Ask the F.B.I. agent at his cubicle
Chewing on his pencil eraser with intents to erase you
It’s U.S.A. against the gangsta, where’s the love?

[Hook: Cocaine 80s]
Love, I’ll trade you love
I’ve traded fire with you long enough
Is that all you brung? It’s not love
That’s fucked up, but I saved your soul
Roll that up

[Verse 2: Nas]
Sometimes I sit on the bench just to watch the game
Feet on cement, there ain’t a mobster living I could name
Who made it out rich, in his absence I do not proclaim
To not have a heart like wild animals not tamed
Maybe just a typical thug nigga was my rank
‘Cept I had a vision above niggas, what I think
It’s crazy how many brothers come from where I come from
Some made it out big, some dead, some unsung
Shots for soldiers on 23 hours lock-up
Younger generation, they want to mimic and mock us
Laughing, separating themselves like they not us, like
“Cops’ll look at you like they look at me? That’s preposterous”
Ain’t it gangsta how your man made it? I’m humble
One gun, one crazy ass nigga, that’s Jungle
Now we having babies, cause growing up it was just us
No uncles or cousins to fight with us, we was fucked up
But still it was beautiful, the love is mutual
Even though me and Jung ain’t show up to your funeral
I hold your son hand, tell him he the man, we love you
Your pops was king, you have a whole lot to live up to
The G is in your genes, already you tuck
Inherit your dad’s swag, it’s George Jefferson’s strut
Stay flyest, they gon’ want to know what in your diet
Don’t be surprised if they want to check your shit and your vomit
Tell them you let it marinate, they swear you made them a promise
No matter what they do, you just stay a man of honor
I’m a street corner nigga, New York Knicks loyalist
Corona sipper, pass it out, might blow it with you
It ain’t the Truman show; it’s the human show
Ask the F.B.I. agent at his cubicle
Chews on his pencil eraser with intents to erase you
Young brother go and get your paper, I got love

[Hook: Cocaine 80s]
Love, I’ll trade you love
I’ve traded fire with you long enough
Is that all you brung? It’s not love
That’s fucked up, but I saved your soul
Roll that up
Roll that up

NAS – U Wanna Be Me

Uhh, oooooooooooooh baby, baby
Keep it thug, and keep yo’ heat, na nah nah nah nah

[Nas]
Now slowly, thinkin of all the things that oppose me
I think of kings who died and rappers out to dethrone me
For they crown they head is cut off, bodies is laid
Dead in the street, it’s so fuckin pitiful
First they love you, could be the bitch that even live with you (hoe)
Mad at your riches, now she switched, turned miserable
Cause she wanna dress like Bonnie, Robin and Crystal do
But Crystal’s single, Bonnie’s broke and her niggaz too (ha)
I can do bad by myself; went from rags to wealth
From Jags to Bentleys to, plenty ass bitches
Can’t keep they hands to theyself no more
I’m like, Hugh Hefner, you lesser, you just a

[Chorus]
Wanna be me, you can’t you faggot, you bitch
You coward, you clown, you just wanna be down
So you – wanna be me, you bitch, you phony
You clone me, you wanna be son, I’m the one and only
But you – wanna be me, you suckers, you weak
You flunkies, you fake, you couldn’t come close on my worst day
But you – wanna be me, I burn you and learn you a lesson
Concernin this mic profession, turn your direction

[Nas]
You can’t be me, not in your wildest fantasy
It’s childish; should I have to resort to violence?
Pay me a half a million, I’ll consult your album
And show you how to stay off my dick
That’s the thing I hate the most, can’t even call you a man
When you gotta call out my name to get you some fans
No talent, you need direction; you a pussy with a yeast infection
You unlucky, I’m your fuckin C-section
Plus I’m the last real nigga alive
Toast glass, Ill Will, the label get high
Realize, how many classics I gave you
Perhaps if you think back you’ll realize that I made you

[Chorus]

[Nas]
You can’t be me, I’m tryin to walk a straight line
Why they tryin to take mine? I’m past +8 Miles+ of every state line
Eating, alligators and, hummingbird hearts
At the player’s ball, Brianni suits, y’all birds watch
As real millionaire, shit’ll take place
Evil as Hitler’s hate-race people
This is God son, and I’ve come from the God under pure peace
To represent the streets, you’ll see that my plan
is not to destroy your man
But to bring more to mankind and teach
Every MC reach for your pens and papers
Lesson one be creative; what you made of junior?
Cause soon you’ll be a grown man with the mic in your hand
And understand, to battle Nas not in your plan
I’m the last real nigga alive, understand that
And you my offspring, the boss sting
A bulletproof Porsche things, hard for you to understand that
Nas the king, where my bricks, where my band at?
Play me a gangster’s theme, while you entertain me
If I ain’t cryin laughin, to the lions, throw your ass in
What the fuck was you niggaz thinkin?
Guns’ll clutch if I get a inklin that you comin for the kingpin
But I laugh at you cowards, ha ha ha
Take me out, try try try, but you

[Chorus]

You can’t be me

NAS – U.B.R. (Unauthorized Biography Of Rakim)

[Nas:]
“The unauthorized copy. Dedication to my children, my child
Destiny Jones. To my niece and nephews, Suree, Malik, Jabari
The world is yours. Acknowledgements: First off, I wanna
thank God. And I wanna thank everybody for helping me out
with this. Couldn’t do it without you. Chapter 1.”

[Verse 1: Nas]
January 28, 1968
Born into this world as William Griffin The Great
Chapter 1, Winedance Long Island
Scientific rhymin’ invented a new sound when he met with
Eric Barrier from East Sandhurst
The melody they created was the first
Burst on the scene, 1986 with Clap To This
’87 dropped a classic disc
The facts is the tracklist was like four
The vocals, the beats — according to Marly Marl
Recorded in my hometown Queensbridge
That’s why it’s so relative
This biography was unauthorized
I spit it how it was given to author Nas
William changed his name at sixteen to Rakim Allah
‘Cause Clarence 13X had New York on lock
Gods on every block, jams in every park
I remember hearin’ Curtis Blow saying
“It can’t get better than this”
‘Til Run DMC blew my brains to bits
From leather coats to shell toes to the stan smiths, to Dapper Dan kicks
First million-dollar deal ever in rap, 18th Letter did that
From 41st & Broadway to Uni to MCA
We followed the leader to Harlem’s Apollo Theatre
Supreme rapped and the 50 that don’t rap
Forte Green, Queens, Long Island wolfpack
Paid In Full posse, hot they was on
And Ra had his firstborn
With the next line I’ma be easy
His wisdom’s name is Fifi
EPMD put a record out, was dope
Tension spread, and I quote “Smack me and I smack you back”
Sounded like the answer to the I Ain’t No Joke track
For a second it ain’t look good
Little tension buzzin’ from Winedance to Brentwood
Misunderstood, all forgot by sixteen when I met Freddy Foxx
Totin’ burners, the whole coast’s most concern was
How was Rakim’s flow, made Christians convert with Islamic ways
Let The Rhythm Hit ‘Em was the third LP
A sophisticated mean one, before similar voices were King Son
A few others, but sooner or later, the game was Ra’s kingdom
At sixteen, son was watchin’ him, mesmorized
Respect, not jockin’ him, was so amazin’, besides
He came on the stage with lasers in his eyes
Walk with me now

[Nas talking]
“Unauthorized biography of Rakim. Epilogue: Mother was
a jazz singer. Nephew to R & B legend Ruth Brown
Discography: Paid In Full, Follow The Leader, Let
The Rhythm Hit ‘Em, Don’t Sweat The Technique. That’s
the end of the group. Went off to solo. Dropped the
R, then the 18th Letter, and I think, somethin’, The
Master. Was signed to Aftermath, scheduled to release
an album Oh My God with Dr. Dre. The album was
dismantled because of creative differences. Thee end
to the new beginning. Yeah. Next book, KRS1. Peace.”

NAS – Trust

It’s like a cold story repeated over and over
In the winters of my mind
This shit be real, man
Shit’s crazy out here
Yo yo, yo what up y’all?
That’s my niggas over there. Word

[Verse 1]
If you scared to take chances, you’ll never have the answers
I could tell the future of a dude how his stance is
Wonder will he shoot then you should study where his hands is
Is he gonna cock it and pop it? His waistband big
But he don’t have that thing in him, slangin’ just ain’t in him
Body language is off, he’s soft
But soft niggas all a sudden start dumpin’, frontin’
Cause you fell away; my niggas say the eyes is a giveaway
One look could tell me if you really came to kill me
Be the quiet nigga lookin’, layin’ with the milli
Who dat over there, creepin’? Who homie by the tree?
Better safe than sorry, look at p-noid me
Few machine guns close, we could squeeze all three
Be a cold day in hell ‘fore they creep on me
It’s a lesson every premonition
Lotta niggas killed ’cause they wasn’t payin’ attention.
Listen

[Hook]
I want a bitch I can trust
Some niggas I can trust
Accountants lookin’ over my figures I can trust
A lawyer that’s fightin’ for my decisions I can trust
Damn my nigga trust, I can never get enough
A Ruger I can trust, shooters I can trust
Goons that know how to spot out a Judas I can trust
And if I can’t trust you, the fuck is you here for?
Some of you niggas’ true colors becoming clear more

[Verse 2]
It’s been so long, can’t remember how we begun this war
This is a ever-lasting thunderstorm, ’cause guns went off
I see ya moms she still speak,
She don’t know I ain’t cool wit her son no more
It’s old shit, see forever we holdin’ this grudge
Takes real men to squash beef, end it with hugs
We buried our dead, been years
Why should I worry ’bout him
Constantly watchin’ my back
Plus niggas tellin’ I dread
Another day I put a family in black
Though I be calm and relaxed
Though I know somehow it will come back
Even if I’m in the right, ’cause still a life is a life
What was it worth to see you covered in dirt?
It’s quite redundant, whether you the hunter or the hunted
Mother’s cry, no statute of limitation on a homicide
Just tattoos of my niggas’ names. I wonder will it change?
Let’s ride

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
It’s rare I listen to niggas who never been in my position
A caterpillar can’t relate to what an eagle envisions
From the mind of a man who went at it with killers
Sit down little man, let me school you in hood business
Seen a lotta niggas blow, lotta dreams folded
Some wasn’t humble, ate too much, got bloated
Ain’t too much left to buy, bought it I’m loaded I guess
Lear jets – I ask myself do I need love or success?
They say the artist that truly suffer his stuff is the best
‘Cause his heart bleed on his sleeve, pain pistols and sex
Remember spraypaintin’ the word “Fresh” and then staring at it
Older folks angry, pointin’, swearin’ at it
Buildings I sprayed, nowadays drive the Maclaren past it
Same old man from years ago told me life is short
So from infant to geriatric, trust ya own judgment.
Live with it and love it

[Hook]

NAS feat. Havoc – The Set Up

[Nas]
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 niggaz sour, they put to much flour in they coke
And got the nerve to wonder WHY THEY BROKE
While we was gleamin, niggaz was scheamin
Seen the ill Beamers beamin
Triple-beam and doublin cream, had em feenin
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 beggin 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 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
with two females that don’t smile diggin they style yo
Whattup son, these niggaz done started somethin wild
You know the clique well, Ramel with the gold in his grill
Tried to get a name holdin 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, knowin The Firm got it cornered
We on it, shit we was born wit

[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 tech 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 tech lift
Lift you up, bless you wit a shorty then we set you up

[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 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 yo’ ass try to screw him
Do what ya gotta do to get to him
A tight parasuco, with young faces
can turn niggaz Buttafuco, 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 chattin, was only bout a minute, flat when
they jumped in the back of the Jeep laughin
We followed them pollyin, 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 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 niggaz got murdered in the orgy

[Chorus 1/2]

[unknown lady - not credited]
Q.B.C.
QueensBridge motherfucker
Ropin niggaz up
Cause our click is thick
Another day another dollar
More money, more murder
Fuck this shit, Q.B. up in the house

Nas – The Don

Super Cat
New York girls Dem A mad ova wi
Nas the Don
In a new york city

Yea.. yea
Smoking a escubano, guzzle my second bottle
Hope I don’t catch a homo (homicide)
Grossing our net
Simultaneously making me climb higher, heinous crimes behind me
Search but can’t find me
Fuck sadness
Had this been you havin’ this lavish
Habitual happiness at me you wouldn’t look backwards
You would have sex on condominium roof decks
So anyone move next
I’ll hit you with two techs
Rocking Roberto Cavalli no shirt on convertible Mazy
My Columbiana mommy ridin beside me
Every tat mean something, that’s my word on my body
I’ll have to lean something wit that Mossberg shotty
My niggas is ignant, put lead in yo pigment
Just cuz y’all was mad at all the years I was getting it
In 97 the six
98 the Bentley
Now it’s the Ghost Phantom
And ya’ll can’t stand ’em but…

Nas the Don
In a new york city

Army Jacket swag Army jacket green and black
Wit the square top pocket that snaps
Where the gas at?
Pass that, not you
You hold cracks in your ass crack
I never did that, my sock where my stash was at
Yo I used to listen to that red alert and rap attack
I fell in love with all that poetry I mastered that
Cuttin school with Preme team at phat cat was at
Future not crystal clear yet Baccarat
Now I’m the one that’s reppin Queens way beyond your wildest dreams
Bottles on bottles with sparklers surround my team
That long cash get the baddest bitches out they jeans
20 years in this game lookin 17
I don’t lean: no codeine, promethazine
I just blow green, pick which bitch to bless the king
Although he’s on to another chapter
Heavy D gave this beat to Salaam for me to rap to
Blaaaah…

Yeah yeah..
New York is like an Island a big Rikers Island
The cops be out wildin, all I hear is sirens
It’s all about surviving same old two step
Tryna stay alive when
They be out robbin, I been out rhyming
Since born knowledge like prophet Muhammad
Say the ink from a scholar
Worth more than the blood of a martyr
So I’mma
Keep it on til I see billion dollars
Keep your friends close and ya enemies closer
Love model chocha mommy pop it like she suppose to
Eyes red shot like I’m never sober
Big time smoker Indonesian doja
Minis me you can hold up before you get all wet up from my soldiers
Don shit
Under fire I remain on some calm shit
This for every ghetto and the hood
Nas the Don and Supercat the Don Dotta
Understood…

NAS – The Black Bond

[Verse 1]
I pull a string on a lamp and shit darkens
I’m living in an elegant Moroccan apartment
Proletarian chicks sparkin’
Convo weak, and I don’t really care for her jargon
Balcony is windy, looking at the stars and
I be on the Henny woozy in the head, wobblin’
Gucci pillow on the bed while she giving noggin
Listening and tripping off the Maxwell album
Thinking I should leave to a European island
Bristol or Spain, bring a book about Stalin
Dinner serenaded with a violin
But shorty not qualified to be took to that kind of outing
Gotta be a fly bitch to hang around that fly shit
Fine dining, Olive Garden
Nah bitch, Nas is in the real deal food spots on the constant
Pick the right wine, a Chianti to wash it
Lifestyle encompasses top notch watches
Rolexes, synonymous shit I’m coppin’
Ask her has she been around duffle bags
Full of that “fuck you cash”
Get off the jet with me in heels, I’ll cup your ass
Lookin’ in my eyes sayin’ “Nas, you one lucky bastard”
Grip your clutch, you get finger fucked in the passenger
I hit the Dutch, blow smoke out, music and laughter
See us in the coupe flying past ya

[Verse 2]
Esco, dress code, it changes
Harrods in England
Back to the star spangled labels in my closet hanging
Counting wonder in the tundra
Get humbled but disgruntled when I come through, confront ya
Let nothing slide, sly remarks
You must wanna die, but you frontin’ wild
When we all know you pumpkin pie
When we in the bus we fly better shit than Emirates
To Dubai, to the Chi, I’m a crucial conflict
Heaven sent, cause a storm, typhoon flood you out
You are what a thug about? I’m a fuckin’ juggernaut
Never sleep, never tire, keep a freak I tie up
Who don’t speak, she quiet
So I can think, conspire
On my feet’s [?], and sometimes sneakers
Wear ties at the Setai Miami time-pieces
Are from Zurich. It’s like I’m allergic
To non-oxidolic nine
Give it to you raw so you can feel it

NAS – Stay

[Verse 1]
Peace to the Five Percenters, online engine inventors
Shout to them niggas, family men, bringin’ home dinners
Watch out for desperate lonely women, hurt ya happy home
Miserable and alone, kissable, nice to bone
She not the type deserving of a throne
Her beauty is her curse, she fuck for shoes and a purse
Make me a movie first, can watch you on my phone
I shop in Barcelona, I spend some nights in Rome
Feel like a knight from England, that’s what I named my son: Knight
He was born to be one, that’s how my game was won
White 740 Beamer, licked by an angel’s tongue
I’m livin’ dangerous son, she got a man, a famous one
Honey be pocket watchin’, she got a lot of options
Hard to make up her mind decidin’ which baller to rock with
Hot to death, slim pickings, but I’m not impressed
She got the hottest sex, so I guess I’ma just…
Stay

[Verse 2]
Even though I don’t like you, next Friday night can’t wait to fight you
Locked up I would knife you, don’t fuck with you
Last month I even bucked at you, you got locked
I felt bad, wait, do I got love for you?
I might kill you, but do I got love for you?
I want you dead under 6 feet of soil
At the same time, want you here to witness me while you in misery
We hate each other, but it’s love, what a thug mystery
Years ago they ate the heart of a slain enemy
We enemies, but your hatred could never enter me
Some seek fame cause they need validation
Some say hatin’ is confused admiration
Spotlight on me, I still look twenty
Still get money, lady killer pushin’ a Bentley
Maybe niggas could see too much of they failures through a nigga who realer
I don’t like you near bruh, but I need you to…
Stay

NAS feat. Nikki Flores – Roses

[Hook: Nikki Flores]
Just like a rose
Everybody knows that you are so beautiful
But I feel a thorn in my hide
I should’ve known, we can’t repair what we broke
But I held you close
Too close
I should’ve left your roses at the door
They’re sharper than before
And I don’t want them no more
I should’ve left your roses at the door
They’re sharper than before
And I don’t need them no more

[Verse 1: Nas]
I have no time to give you guidance
Barely have any fuck time either
Hefner minded like, I think you’re fine, but
I seen the finest women that ever came out a beaver
Mind reader, can tell she vegan or not when I meet her
Or if she insecure, most are
If she’s mixed, a possible psycho alert goes off
Not a judge cause a judge don’t wear no draws, yet he allows
Everything to go to your spouse when you end your vows
My tax bracket not enough blacks have it
Who should I date? Project chick or Cuban actress?
A white chick, they might flip talking that blackness
Should only attract black shit, I’m an ass magnet
If you mad at that, you’ll be mad forever
Never played you, I prayed we would stay together
Wished it’d last forever, know what I mean
Heard you tear a rose from the roots, the rose screams

[Hook: Nikki Flores]
Just like a rose
Everybody knows that you are so beautiful
But I feel a thorn in my hide
I should’ve known, we can’t repair what we broke
But I held you close
Too close

[Verse 2: Nas]
Them Xanax can’t manage your maniac manic depressive expressions
They some silent killers, that stress shit
That put ulcers in a lot of niggas
I’m blowing medical, it helps chill a violent temper
I done went to hell and back, you always think you right
You know when you wrong, and still you want to fight
When people like my song, you want to kill ‘em right?
You resent me every time I make a million right?
You want to experience life when you calling all the shots
Ordering bottles for all your girls up in the spot
Have your own cash, own your own Benz
Your own house, everything, me, I understand
Thought you would bask in the glory as Queen Bee
Put you on under Martin Scorsese: Mean Street
The first movie he made, thought that was fly
I thought you was flyer, you a fuckin’ liar

[Hook: Nikki Flores]
Just like a rose
Everybody knows that you are so beautiful
But I feel a thorn in my hide
I should’ve known, we can’t repair what we broke
But I held you close
Too close
I should’ve left your roses at the door
They’re sharper than before
And I don’t want them no more
I should’ve left your roses at the door
They’re sharper than before
And I don’t need them no more

Nas – Reach Out (feat. Mary J. Blige)

[Hook: Mary J. Blige]
This kind of love is a once in a lifetime cruise
Reach out and touch the love that I have for you
I see you standing there so lost and all alone
I wanna take you in my arms
And tell you that you’re home
I look into your eyes
I said I know you very well
I see a mirror of my life
A reflection of myself

[Verse 1: Nas]
3:45 am can’t sleep, can’t dream
I’m stuck, money problems pop up
How will I survive, guess it’s best to decide not to decide
So that’s my decision
Whatever happens happens
I keep makin’ my millions
Can see myself in presidential campaign dinners
But I’m gassin’ blunts around a bunch of gang members
When you’re too hood to be in them Hollywood circles
And you’re too rich to be in that hood that birthed you
And you become better than legends you thought were the greatest
And out grow women you love and thought you could stay with
Life become clearer when you wipe down your mirror
And leave notes around for yourself to remember
I like to teach and build
With brothers about how easy it is to reach a mill
All you need is some skill, then it’s grindtime
Imagination better than knowledge, say’s Einstein
It’s all in the mind
Nasty the nicest, I’m somewhat of a psychic
Just one minute after it’s heard
You all excited, you all repeat it
So call me a genius, if you didn’t
Now that I said it I force you to think it
Write in my little vignettes, sipping Moet
When you vision me, you vision the best
When I was young they called me, Olu’s son
Now he Nas father, I was the good seed
He was the wise gardener

[Hook:]
This kind of love is a once in a lifetime cruise
Reach out and touch the love that I have for you
I see you standing there so lost and all alone
I wanna take you in my arms
And tell you that you’re home
I look into your eyes
I said I know you very well
I see a mirror of my life
A reflection of myself

[Verse 2: Nas]
Beautiful life, often I dream that I can bring my niggas
Conservatives don’t understand slang linguistics
The burbs talking like the hood’ll change with quickness
Love the skinny model chicks but I prefer the thickness
So what I rap about my riches and I’m ostentatious
Get out of gangsta business seen in me you basic
Try to compare what you live to the life I master
See the fly shit I wear, you try to rock it after
Big bracelets, gold any different faces
White wine spritzers and Switzerland on vacation
The strip club scene favours your supreme banker
Dope fiend neighbours, growing up I’ve seen paper
I describe it, hope you can visualize it
This is reminiscent to all the parks in the project
When my bread is nice, can rival your foamposites
Don’t make me pull my ? out the closet

[Hook:]
This kind of love is a once in a lifetime cruise
Reach out and touch the love that I have for you
I see you standing there so lost and all alone
I wanna take you in my arms
And tell you that you’re home
I look into your eyes
I said I know you very well
I see a mirror of my life
A reflection of myself

NAS feat. Mary J. Blige – Reach Out

[Hook: Mary J. Blige]
This kind of love is a once in a lifetime cruise
Reach out and touch the love that I have for you
I see you standing there so lost and all alone
I wanna take you in my arms
And tell you that you’re home
I look into your eyes
I said I know you very well
I see a mirror of my life
A reflection of myself

[Verse 1: Nas]
3:45 am can’t sleep, can’t dream
I’m stuck, money problems pop up
How will I survive, guess it’s best to decide not to decide
So that’s my decision
Whatever happens happens
I keep makin’ my millions
Can see myself in presidential campaign dinners
But I’m passin’ blunts around a bunch of gang members
When you’re too hood to be in them Hollywood circles
And you’re too rich to be in that hood that birthed you
And you become better than legends you thought were the greatest
And out grow women you love and thought you could stay with
Life become clearer when you wipe down your mirror
And leave notes around for yourself to remember
I like to teach and build
With brothers about how easy it is to reach a mill
All you need is some skill, then it’s grindtime
Imagination better than knowledge, say’s Einstein
It’s all in the mind
Nasty the nicest, I’m somewhat of a psychic
Just one minute after it’s heard
You all excited, you all repeat it
So call me a genius, if you didn’t
Now that I said it I force you to think it
Write in my little vignettes, sipping Moet
When you vision me, you vision the best
When I was young they called me, Olu’s son
Now he Nas father, I was the good seed
He was the wise gardener

[Hook: Mary J. Blige]

[Verse 2: Nas]
Beautiful life, often I dream that I can bring my niggas
Conservatives don’t understand slang linguistics
The burbs talking like the hood’ll change with quickness
Love the skinny model chicks but I prefer the thickness
So what I rap about my riches and I’m ostentatious
Get out of gangsta business seen in me you basic
Try to compare what you live to the life I master
See the fly shit I wear, you try to rock it after
Big bracelets, golden Egyptian faces
White wine spritzers and Switzerland on vacation
The strip club scene favors Josephine Baker
Dope fiend neighbours, growing up I’ve seen paper
I describe it, hope you can visualize it
This is reminiscent to all the parks in the project
When my British Knights, can rival your foamposites
Don’t make me pull my lotto’s out the closet

[Hook: Mary J. Blige]

NAS feat. Braveheart’s – Oochie Wally (Remix)

Oh yeah mutha fucka that’s that shit
Oh come on

[Nas]
Ladies make it hot
Thugs make it hot make it pop

[Chorus]
oo-chie wally wally, oo-chie bang bang,
oo-chie wally wally, oo-chie bang bang,
oo-chie wally wally, oo-chie bang bang,
oo-chie wally wally

He really really work my body
He really really turned me out
He really really got to gut me
He really really made me scream and shout
He really taught me how to work my body
He really taught me how to go down south
He really really tried to hurt me hurt me
I really love thug and gangsta style

[Nas]
Yo we got chicks in the living room
Getting it on and they leaving till 6 in the morning
Always for oochie
Oh you ain’t know
How many hoes in the bankroll
Sort of like like the game show
Who wants to be a millionaire
But my name ain’t Regis
Nas the one they call
When they want there thing beat up
Honeys’ with bodies
With Bravehearts guns in the party
Waves, braids, and boldly,
Trademarks to army
Is that Horse it must be
I heard he husky
Yeah, there go jungle eyes red
Looking for trouble
And that’s Nas dancing with dimes
But who’s his manage
The imperial thug
Is cold deep grand wiz
We taking honeys’ to the crib tonite
Grantee we going up in there rib tonite
Check the new slang
It’s changed the braveheart gang bang
When you see me pass
Holla oochie bang bang

[Naish]
Yeah what up ma,
take a look, you hypnotized
on how my long dick stretch your insides
for real ma, with your thick lips and thick thighs
stoke both holes, pass it to Nas
or pass it to Naish, or pass it to Jung
or pass it to Horse, then that ass gettin tossed
fuck a hustler book, penthouse or blacktale
i got bitches sendin my niggas flicks in jail
i fuck a bitch face more than her waist for real
and aint no pussy like new pussy thats how a nigga feel
bust three times throw her the peace sign
she sleep then my dick sleek and I aint gotta call her for weeks
Long leg hoes, mo’head hoes, married bitches
Me and my dog – fuckin them both they got us switchin
Is the nigga gangsta? Yeah, that’s how I’m livin
That’s how I’m playin – I got these freak fuckin hoes singin

[chorus]

[Jungle]
Little young thing go around my dick with your tongue ring
Deep throat my nine inch, gut from the front and
grind from the side and, fuck from behind and
Grab her hair slap her ass, she screamin like she dyin
Make her come four times without even tryin
I’ll beat that pussy up there’s no denyin
Hit her where she doodie at, make that booty fat
Little cutie rat, walking by with the doobie wrap
Tight blue jeans, air max
Small gucci bag
No loot and no job
Stay home giving blow jobs
Like no prob, it’s simple
Holla out the window it’s the project nympho
Fuck my whole crew, you know how we do
you got that good pussy I can share with my peoples
Be a brave girl, do your thang
Let them tities hang, I’ll have all the bitches sayin

[chorus]

[Horse]
When it comes to sex I’m similar to the thriller in manilla
Bitches call me Horse the pussy filler
I’ll fuck a big boned or slim chick
Beat that pussy up real quick then send home the bitch
Aint no sleepin in my bedroom
When henny’s in my dick
When Flex drop the bomb i bust a nut on this bitch
Deep throat, ceaser gold or pun wicked hoes
Who like the way i thug and the way i flow
I like head in the Benz, the four door or the Coupe
Head in the staircase, the cellar or the roof
Head in the studio, the bathroom or the booth
Head from a project chick or one with crazy loot
Like Nia Lomg in a cherry thong with the lights on
Sippin Perignon with Kelly Price on
I pull out my python, I hit it while my wife’s gone
Long dick the bitch all night, I’ll make her pussy sing the song

[2nd chorus till the end]
oo-chie wally wally, oo-chie bang bang
oo-chie wally wally, oo-chie bang bang
oo-chie wally wally, oo-chie bang bang
oo-chie wally wally, oo-chie bang bang
oo-chie wally wally, oo-chie bang bang
oo-chie wally wally, oo-chie bang bang
oo-chie wally wally, oo-chie bang bang
oo-chie wally wally

NAS – One On One

[Verse One:]

In the Rotten Apple, take a bite taste the worm
Embrace the world of reality we’re faced to learn
Coke connection drug bust, graveyards where thugs rest
I keep my mug blessed, the evil is illegal substance sold
Roll mob deep, guns in the black Jeep
Mac-11′s and legends, cracks in the streets
Patroller, gold money-folder, gun happy soldiers
Never sober takin over, my blood is colder
Niggaz respect violence so I become it
I’m from it, I even done it blunted so run it

Yeah son, you know what this is
Take it off (come on dunn, don’t even come at me like that)
(dunn, come on dunn)

[Chorus:]

Imagine this, no guns no knife
It’s a one on one so now we gots to fight, son
Imagine this, no gun no knife
It’s a one on one now we got to fight, yeah
Imagine that, no gun no knife
It’s a one on one now we got to fight, yeah
Imagine this, no gun no knife
It’s a one on one, son

[Verse Two:]

Yo I’m a cream fiend, with a mean dream
Brain full of schemes, my crew’s rollin fresh out the greens
Give you what you never seen, the ips on the Mac-10
It’s 2:10 in the A.M. in the streets of Queens
Try hard and die hard
Chances of survivin the game is like tryin to feed Allah lard
A walk a piece with a deadly shadow
They want to blow me with the double barrel, found no sorrow
I brawl with Blanka, caught Bison in a thinker
Don’t make hell your new home, with the blue chrome
Mistakes want me, sauve fellow but raunchy
The soul of a cold body haunts me, I flee the country
But only to shed tears for years
Too wild for my own self, hopin help is near
Street Fightin was cool but in school I brought a new tool
Toolin with the devil, a rebel, a fool

[Chorus:]

Imagine this no guns no knife
Just a one on one where we got to fight, yeah
Imagine this no gun no knife
Just a one on one where we got to fight, yeah
Imagine this no gun no knife
Just a one on one where we got to fight, yeah
Imagine this no gun no knife
Just a one on one, a one on one

Yeah, take it to the bridge – Queensbridge

Yo whassup money? (Yo yo do you remember this face?)
(Yeah yeah yeah, run these, run these)
[sounds of brawl] (Break you down! Get broke!)
(No hands, run that, run that, run that, no hands)

[Verse Three:]

I hear Jake walkie-talkies in my sleep
Marked money I keep, play the bitches all week
I visualize Coups, alligators in suits
Elevators in my mansion that rises to the roof
Sippin eighty proof, watchin Juice, but hold up
I see some brothers tryin to roll up, wishin I could fold up
It’s hard to see their faces in they hoodies, I better boogie
Too late, I tried to swing when they jigged me, I’m out…

Yeah yeah kid, don’t front, 360 degrees, knowhatI’msayin?
That’s how it comes back at you. Queensbridge, that’s how we live.
South side, all that. New York, light it up, light it up.
Yo yo you saw how I snuffed that kid? (Yeah I saw that, I saw that)
You know how we steppin. That’s how we do out here in the street fight

NAS – No Introduction

[Verse 1]
P.S. 111 at free lunch, embarrassed but managed to get a plate
We was kids hungry, Mom’s working I was famished, she getting home late
So I decided now I’m in charge
Either stay full of starve, corner store like Mr. Spare-a-Quarter
Before Air Jordans, Kareem Abdul-Jabbars
Trying to cop quarters and trying to move that hard
Roll with a shooting squad
How could I not succumb? How could I not partake?
15 I got a gun, 16 I robbed a train
Licked off a shot for fun, what’s got inside my brain?
A hustler’s job ain’t done, ’til he becomes a king
But I’m a righteous son, despite I’m in the mist of
Dudes who switch up and change
They want to carry me like I’m some kind of lame
I never let them know, I just forgive them though
Either that or the pistol blow

[Verse 2]
I remember early mornings – syrup sandwiches, sugar water, yeah
Walking up the dark stairwells, elevators was out of order, yeah
Worth 200 million now, bicentennial nigga, flat screens and condominiums
Brazilian women on Xannies they pulling off panties
I’m pushing 40, she only 21
Don’t applaud me, I’m exhausted G
Me and my red cup, my blunt and my red cup
Y’all wouldn’t know me without one, I keep a fresh cut
Remember talking to Biggie inside his Lex truck
Said stay fly when you bummy, keep your pajamas Armani
Hood forever, I just act like I’m civilized
Really what’s in my mind is organizing a billion black motherfuckers
To take over JP and Morgan Goldman and Sachs
And teach the world facts and give Saudi they oil back

[Verse 3]
1990′s Polo Ralph Lauren on him
Gone a few years, the whole world snoring on him
Girls all up on him, I spread them, hit them and dead them
She says, “third leg from a legend is sheer heaven”
She says, “it is the greatest loving”
The tales you hear is the truth, on me
Who wasn’t the most faithful husband
Reveal my life, you will forgive me
You will love me, hate me, judge me, relate to me
Only a few will, this how it sounds when you too real
They think it’s just music still
Well I am a graphic classic song composer
Music notes on sheets, I wrote this piece to get closure
Some of y’all might know Kelis – this goes to her with love
Also goes to y’all, let’s see
The craziest things already happened to me
So either you’ll be laughing at me or you’re laughing with me, ha

NAS – Nasty

Word
Got some Remy Martin, some good-ass cigars
Check it out

Ayo, late night, candlelight, fiend wit’ diesel in his needle
Queensbridge leader, no equal, I come from the Wheel of Ezekiel
To pop thousand-dollar bottles of scotch, smoke purp, and heal the people
Any rebuttal to what I utter get box-cuttered
Count how many bad honeys I slut, it’s a high number
Name a nigga under the same sky that I’m under
Who gets money, remain fly, yeah, I wonder
Eyes flutter as love when Nas pops up
Stars get starstruck, panties start drippin’
The ways of Carlito, blaze, torpedo cigars
Drop moves, drop clothes
Louis the XIII freaks, women nice size
I ride like Porsches, thick, brown and gorgeous
It ain’t my fault, semiautomatic weapons
I brought the world “Crazy,” I’m rich and I’m girl-crazy
Dick ‘em, convince ‘em all to praise me
They ideology is confusion, I lose ‘em
Fellates me, who hate me? My gun off safety
Since a Tunnel escape key, my jewelry in HD

Silent rage, pristine in my vintage shades
I’m not in the winters of my life or the beginner stage, I am the dragon
Maserati, pumpin’ Biggie, the great legend
Blastin’, I’m after the actress who played Faith Evans
My little Jackie Onassis, dig?
I’m so high, I never land like Mike Jackson’s crib
Best on .45, still crack ya rib sacrilege
When lids talk trash about the nasty kid
Past nasty now, I’m gross and repulsive
Talk money, is you jokin’? Cash everywhere, in my bank, in the sofa
In the walls, in the cars, in my wallet, in my pocket
On the floors, ceiling, the safe, bitch
I got all you envy, but don’t offend
I’m skinny, but still I’m too big for a Bentley
You are your car, what could represent?
Too Godly to be a Bugatti, you honestly
Must design me somethin’ Tommy Mottonic from Queens had before the ’90s
Drug dealer call, rush to the bar
Move, niggas, we don’t give a fuck who you are
Black card heavy like a magnet, in my stitched denims
Pretty women see them them saggin’
Bet a hundred stacks, niggas’ll run it back
Just havin’ fun, I ain’t even begun to black
Light another blunt in fact

(Nasty)
Nasty kid
(Nasty)
Yeah
(Nasty)
The kid!
(Nasty)
Nasty kid

For the hustlers, thick as yellow bitches for the suck of it
Got a bunch of niggas in prison braggin’, sayin’ “It was Nas I used to hustle wit’”
I display fashions while my lungs engage hashes, guns on my waist past his
Since I’m cakin’ up, put funds in my safe, laughin’
And joining the niggas passin’ you niggas was straight assin’
Excuse the vulgarity, I’m still not fully adjusted
Or used to the new fans hearin’ me spit rapidly
I never see the whips niggas be claimin’ they drivin’
I guess entertainment means blatantly lyin’
Fake it ’til you make it, I’ve driven those toys
Been in the wars, in the streets, cops kickin’ in doors
For my deen niggas, your flow cheap as limousine liquor
I’m no fake rap CD listener, sit back and roll a mean swisher
For my Gs, tell these clowns make room for the king, nigga