Lyrics

Y'all ready for Nas? Queensbridge, y'all ready to see Nasty Nas? Uh-huh, they ready Yeah, word Got some Rémy Martin And some good-ass cigars, check it out Ayo, late night, candlelight, fiend with diesel in his needle Queensbridge leader, no equal I come from the Wheel of Ezekiel To pop thousand-dollar bottles of Scotch Smoke pot and heal the people Any rebuttal to what I utter get box-cutter'd 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, it's love when Nas pops up Stars get starstruck, panties start drippin' The ways of Carlito, blaze, torpedo cigars Drop Rolls, hoes drop clothes Louis the XIII, freaks, women nice size I ride like Porsches, thick, brown and gorgeous It ain't my fault, semi-automatic 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 the Tunnel and Skate Key, my jewelry in HD Silent rage, pristine in my vintage shades I'm not in the winters of my life or the beginning 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 Vest on, .45 still crack ya rib, sacrilege Talk trash 'bout 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, ceilings, the safe, bitch, I got it You envy, but don't offend me I'm skinny, but still I'm too big for a Bentley You are your car, what could represent me? Too Godly to be a Bugatti, you honestly Must design me somethin' Tommy Montana from Queens had before the '90s Drug dealer car, 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 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, haha... (Nasty) Nasty kid (Nasty) yeah (Nasty) the kid! (Nasty) yeah (Nasty) Nasty kid (Nasty) For the hustlers, thick as yellow bitches for the suck of it Got a bunch of niggas in prison braggin' Saying, "It was Nas I used to hustle with" I display fashions while my lungs engage hashish Guns on my waist, past this Since I'm cakin' up, put funds in my safe, laughin' And joinin' the blunt 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 them wars, in the streets, cops kickin' in doors For my team, nigga, your flow cheap as limousine liquor I'm no fake rap CD listener, sit back and roll a mean swisher For my G's, tell these clowns make room for the king, nigga
Writer(s): Nasir Jones, Salaam Remi Gibbs Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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