Listen to Affirmative Action (feat. AZ, Cormega & Foxy Brown) by Nas

Affirmative Action (feat. AZ, Cormega & Foxy Brown)

Nas

Hip-Hop/Rap

395,088 Shazams

Music Video

Nas, AZ, Cormega, Foxy Brown - Affirmative Action (Music Video)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Nas
Nas
Vocals
AZ
AZ
Vocals
Cormega
Cormega
Vocals
Foxy Brown
Foxy Brown
Vocals
D. Atkinson
D. Atkinson
Keyboards
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nasir Jones
Nasir Jones
Songwriter
Samuel Barnes
Samuel Barnes
Songwriter
Anthony Cruz
Anthony Cruz
Songwriter
Corey McKay
Corey McKay
Songwriter
Inga DeCarlo Fung Marchand
Inga DeCarlo Fung Marchand
Songwriter
Jean Claude Olivier
Jean Claude Olivier
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Nas
Nas
Executive Producer
D. Atkinson
D. Atkinson
Producer
Trackmasters
Trackmasters
Executive Producer
Rich Travali
Rich Travali
Mixing Engineer
Tom Coyne
Tom Coyne
Mastering Engineer
Poke & Tone
Poke & Tone
Producer
Stoute
Stoute
Executive Producer

Lyrics

This is what... this what they want huh? This is what it's all about. What? Time to take Affirmative Action son They just don't understand, youknowImean? Niggaz comin sideways thinkin stuff is sweet man Yknahmean? Niggaz don't understand the four devils: Lust. Envy. Hate. Jealousy Wicked niggaz man Yo, sit back relax catchin contacts, sip your cog-nac And let's all wash this money through this laundry mat Sneak attack, a new cat sit back, worth top dollar In fact, touch mines, and I'll react like a Rottweiler Who pull the late, we play for high stakes at gunpoint Catch em and break, undress em tie em with tape, no escape The Corleone, fettucini Capone Roam in your own zone or get kidnapped and clapped in your dome We got it sewn, The Firm art of war is unknown Lower your tone, face it, homicide cases get blown Aristocrats, politicking daily with diplomats See me I'm an official mack, Lex Coupe triple black Criminal thoughts in the blue Porsche, my destiny's to be the new boss That nigga Paulie gotta die - he too soft That nigga's dead on, a key of her-oin, they found his head on the couch with his dick in his mouth, I put the hit out Yo, the smoothest killer since Bugsy, bitches love me And Queens where my drugs be, I wear Guess jeans and rugbies Yo my people from Medina they will see you when you re-up on your heater all your cream go between us Real shit, my Desert Eagle got a ill grip I chill with, niggaz that hit Dominican spots and steal bricks My red beam, made a dread scream, and sprayed a Fed team Corleone be turning niggaz to fiends U-Conn's and ninja black Lexus, 'Mega the pretty boy with mafia connections it's The Firm nigga set it Yo, my mind is seeing through your design like blind fury I shine jewellery sipping on crushed grapes, we lust papes and push cakes inside the casket at Just wake It's sickening, he just finished bidding up-state And now the projects, is talking that somebody gotta die shit It's logic, as long as it's nobody that's in my clique My man Smoke, know how to expand coke, and Mr. Coffee Feds cost me two mill' to get the system off me "Life's a Bitch," but God-forbid the bitch divorce me I'll be flooded with ice so hellfire can't scorch me Cuban cigars meeting Foxy at Demars Movin cars, your top papi Señor Escobar In the black Camaro Firm deep all my niggaz hail the blackest sparrow Wallabee's be the apparel Through the darkest tunnel, I got visions of multi-millions in the biggest bundle, in the Lex pushed by my nigga Jungle He money bags got Moet, Sean Don Bundle of sixty-two, they ain't got a clue what we about to do My whole team we shitting hard like Czar Sosa, Foxy Brown, Cormega, and Escobar I keep a fat marquis piece, laced in all the illest snake skin Armani sweaters Carolina Herrera Be The Firm baby, from BK to the 'Bridge My nigga Wiz, operation Firm Biz, so what the deal is I keep a phat jewel, sipping Cristies Sitting on top of fifty grand in the Nautica Van, uhh! We stay incogni' like all them thug niggaz in Marcy The Gods, they praise Allah with visions of Gandhi Bet it on, my whole crew is Don Juan On Cayman Island with a case of Cristal and Papa Chula spoke Nigga with them Cubans that snort coke Raw though, an ounce mixed with leak that's pure though Flipping the bigger picture, the bigger nigga with the cheddar Was mad dripper, he had a fucking villa in Manilla We got to flee to Panama, but wait it's half and half Keys is one and two-fifth, so how we flip Thirty-two grams raw, chop it in half, get sixteen, double it times three We got forty-eight, which mean a whole lot of cream Divide the profit by four, subtract it by eight We back to sixteen, now add the other two that 'Mega bringing through So let's see, if we flip this other key Then that's more for me, mad coke and mad leak Plus a five hundred, cut in half is two-fifty Now triple that times three, we got three quarters of another key The Firm baby, volume one uhh.
Writer(s): Jean Claude Olivier, Samuel J. Barnes, Nasir Jones, Inga D. Marchand, Anthony S. Cruz, Cory Mckay, Dave A. Atkinson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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