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Listen to It Was Written by Nas
ALBUMIt Was WrittenNas
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PLAYLISTSing: Hip-HopApple Music
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PLAYLISTFoxy Brown EssentialsApple Music Hip-Hop
Listen to Hip-Hop/R&B Hits: 1996 featuring Nas
PLAYLISTHip-Hop/R&B Hits: 1996Apple Music Hip-Hop

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Nas
Nas
Vocals
Ahmad Jamal
Ahmad Jamal
Sampled Artist
Eric Gale
Eric Gale
Sampled Artist
Procol Harum
Procol Harum
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nasir Jones
Nasir Jones
Songwriter
Christopher Martin
Christopher Martin
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Nas
Nas
Executive Producer
DJ Premier
DJ Premier
Producer
Stoute
Stoute
Executive Producer
Trackmasters
Trackmasters
Executive Producer
Eddie Sancho
Eddie Sancho
Mixing Engineer
Tom Coyne
Tom Coyne
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Damn! Look how mo'fuckers use a nigga Just use me for whatever the fuck they want I don't get to say shit Just grab me, just do what the fuck they want Sell me, throw me away Niggas just don't give a fuck about a nigga like me, right? Like I'm a f-, I'm a gun, shit It's like I'm a motherfucking gun I can't believe this shit Word up, word up I seen some cold nights and bloody days They grab me, bullets spray They use me wrong, so I sing this song to this day My body is cold steel, for real I was made to kill, that's why they keep me concealed Under car seats, they sneak me in clubs Been in the hands of mad thugs They feed me when they load me with mad slugs 17 precisely, one in my head They call me Desert Eagle, semi-auto with lead I'm seven inches, four pounds, been through so many towns Ohio to Little Rock to Canarsie, living harshly Beat up and battered They pull me out, I watch as niggas scattered Making me kill, but what I feel, it never mattered When I'm empty, I'm quiet, finding myself fiending to be fired A broken safety, niggas place me in shelves, under beds So I beg for my next owner to be a thoroughbred Keeping me full up with hollow heads How you like me now? I go blaow It's that shit that moves crowds, making every ghetto foul I might have took your first child Scarred your life, crippled your style I gave you power, I made you buck-wild How you like me now? I go blaow It's that shit that moves crowds, making every ghetto foul I might have took your first child Scarred your life, crippled your style I gave you power, I made you buck-wild Always I'm in some shit My abdomen is the clip, the barrel's my dick Uncircumcised, pull my skin back and cock me I bust off when they unlock me Results of what happens to niggas shock me I see niggas bleeding, running from me in fear Stunningly, tears fall down the eyes of these so-called tough guys For years, I've been used in robberies Giving niggas heart to follow me Placing peoples in graves, funerals made 'cause I was sprayed I was laid in a shelf, with a grenade Met a wrecked-up TEC with numbers on his chest that say 5-2-0-9-3-8-5 and zero Had a serial defaced, hoping one day, police would place Where he came from, a name or some sort of person to claim him Tired of murdering, made him wanna be a plain gun But yo, I had some other plans, like the next time the beef is on I make myself jam right in my owner's hand How you like me now? I go blaow It's that shit that moves crowds, making every ghetto foul I might have took your first child Scarred your life, or crippled your style I gave you power, I made you buck-wild How you like me now? I go blaow It's that shit that moves crowds, making every ghetto foul I might have took your first child Scarred your life, or crippled your style I gave you power, I made you buck-wild Yo, weeks went by and I'm surprised Still stuck in the shelf with all the things that an outlaw hides Besides me, it's bullets, two vests and then a nine There's a grenade in a box, and that TEC that kept crying 'Cause he ain't been cleaned in a year, he's rusty, it's clear He's 'bout to fall to pieces 'cause of his murder career Yo, I can hear somebody coming in Open the shelf, his eyes bubbling He said it was on, I felt his palm troubled him Shaking, somebody stomped him out, his dome was aching He placed me on his waist, the moment I've been waiting My creation was for Blacks to kill Blacks It's gats like me that accidentally go off, making niggas memories But this time, it's done intentionally He walked me outside, saw this cat Cocked me back, said, "Remember me?" He pulled the trigger but I held on, it felt wrong Knowing niggas is waiting in Hell for him He squeezed harder, I didn't budge, sick of the blood Sick of them thugs, sick of wrath of the next man's grudge What the other kid did was pull out, no doubt A newer me in better shape, before he lit out, he lead the chase My owner fell to the floor, his wig split So fast, I didn't know he was hit, it's over with Heard mad niggas screaming, niggas running, cops is coming Now I'm happy, until I felt somebody else grab me Damn!
Writer(s): Nasir Jones, Christopher Edward Martin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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