Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Nas
Nas
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nasir Jones
Nasir Jones
Songwriter
Chauncey Hollis, Jr.
Chauncey Hollis, Jr.
Songwriter
Jawuan Damariel Wilson
Jawuan Damariel Wilson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Hit-Boy
Hit-Boy
Producer
Ezreaux
Ezreaux
Co-Producer
Marvin Delgado
Marvin Delgado
Assistant Engineer
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer
David Kim
David Kim
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

G's, yeah, yeah QB, AQ, Ravenswood, Woodside, let's go (Hit-Boy) My thumb struck a lot of lighters, pulled a lot of all-nighters Banned from some afterhours spots My crew would choose violence, move in silence Who knew I'd grew to build an empire? Streets had me against the ropes, would've thought I was ziplining TECs in the dresser, money off tech, pushing a Tesla Rolled up a fresh one, it's one IPO to the next one Rich from corporate or thuggin', expensive mistakes It's all a racket, it's the same thing, just the risk that you take Moving too fast, blues on your ass The boys came through with the task Peep through the blinds, you knew it was curtains Breadwinner take a L, leave the whole family hurting Seen it a million times, system washed him out with the verdict So I'm clean as a whistle, drinking premium liquor In-between two Argentinian sisters They counting up for me until their fingers get blisters What I blew that on? I cannot seem to remember It's not even bragging (I like that) It's okay, it's gon' be okay Flyest nigga in this rap shit Yo, as I'm looking at the New York skyline Reminiscing on nighttime, shootouts with my guys Pouring this white wine, you could Richard Millie your left wrist Keep in perspective, we on God's time (the world is yours) What happens when dealers reduce to addicts? What happens when kings don't see their potential status? What's your exit plan? Face to face with my omens, I never ran Stood on stages most never can, pyrotechnics and leather pants Shifting the culture Mention me with Mick Jagger and Bono like you're 'posed to I'm standing next to rookies, somehow they looking older The altitude of matter so cold, it'll make your nose run How you expect to get love if you don't show none? I should send you little niggas on a store run How we're moving is no cut I'm from the era of razor blades and coke dust People living with no trust, champagne in the soap suds So I'm clean as a whistle, drinking premium liquor In-between two Argentinian sisters They counting up for me until their fingers get blisters What I blew that on? I cannot seem to remember The world is yours Scarface, Tony Montana shit It's yours, yours, yours R.I.P. Ecstasy from Whodini DMX, Prince Markie Dee, Shock G Real rap gods, do you know the meaning? All the rap brothers we lost this year, and last year Ayo, check it out Run to the store for me, man Get me veggie chips, blunts and a bottle You got this shit all twisted, man It's about rank, you ain't there yet Think you gon' send me to the store? I own the store, man I'm just testing you I got the hood playing golf, wild boss style Crucifixes over the Chrome Hearts, you get crossed out People battered down, Asian hate getting passed around Tiger happy, both his parents' lives matter now Marble floors is my common law, we company builders I inspired those who inspired you to run up millions Not perfect, persistent, keep it more pure than the purest I do this for the 'jects and them good-hearted jurors
Writer(s): Nasir Jones, Chauncey Hollis, Douglas Brown, James Spencer, Richard Botts, Jawuan Damariel Wilson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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