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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyrics:
(Y'all ready for Nas?)
(Queensbridge, y'all ready to see Nasty Nas?)
(Uh huh, they ready)
Yeah, word
Got some Remy Martin
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-cuttered
Count how many bad honeys I slutted
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 robes, hoes, drop clothes
Louis 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 appraise me
They ideology is confusion, I lose 'em
Fellates me, who hate me? My gun off safety
Since the Tunnel and State Key, my jewelry in HD
Silent rage, ristine 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 Neverland like Mike Jackson's crib
Vest on, .45 still crack your rib
Sacrilege, 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 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 Mottonic 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'
Sayin', It was Nas I used to hustle with
I display fashions while my lungs engage hashes
Guns on my waist, pass this
Since I'm cakin' up, put funds in my safe, laughin'
And joining 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 the wars, in the streets cops kickin' in doors
For my deen, 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
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