Artist: Nas Album: Life Is Good Song: Nasty Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com [Intro] Y'all ready for Nas? {*crowd cheers*} Queensbridge, y'all ready to see Nasty Nas? {*crowd cheers*} Ah-hah, they ready [Nas] Yeah...Word... Got some Remy Martin and some good-ass cigars, check it out Aiyyo 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 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 as 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, semiautomatic 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 beginner 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 Best on 45, still crack ya 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 Montana from Queens had before the 90s Drug dealer car, rush to the bar Move niggaz, we don't give a FUCK who you are Black card heavy like a magnet, in my stitched denims Pretty women see them them saggin Bet a hundred stacks, niggaz'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 For the hustlers, thick as yellow bitches for the suck of it Got a bunch of niggaz in prison braggin Sayin, "It was Nas I used to hustle with" I display fashions while my lungs engage hashes, guns on my waist, past this Since I'm cakin up, put funds in my safe, laughin and joining the blunt passin, you niggaz 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 niggaz 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, yo' flow cheap as limousine liquor I’m no fake rap CD listener Sit back and roll a mean Swisher For my Gs, tell these clowns make room for the king, nigga