NAS - I'm A Vilian lyrics

rate me

Yo Nas wat up

Wats goin on yo?

Ight kick it

I'm the nigga

Walking with his finger on the trigga

Make enough figgas until my pockets get bigger

I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testing

Gimme a Smith & Wessin and I'll have niggas undressing

I'm rolling with a mob, and run from the cops

Drive stolen cars, and shooting many gloccs

A marijuana addict, if niggas want static, they had it

Cause I flip just like a acrobatic

I'm always on the corners, rollin obscessed, when I dress it's never nothing less than Guess

So I walk with a bop and my hat turned back

Love commiting sins and my friends sell crack

I got it goin on, my knuckle game is strong, sip Don Perry-On, and then carry on

Army is certified, keep a Rent-A-Ride

Stripping mad hoes, and kick em to the side

See I'm the type of brother who keeps a 4-pounder

Start alot of shit... and shoot at outer-towners

At every block party, I try to catch a body, all for props, tell your pops call the cops

See now I'm on the run, but still having fun

Living by the mac... Maguera's all black

I keep killing, because I'm ready and I'm willing and I'm a Villian!

I got beef with the president

And still loving it, trying to make plans to overthrow the government

It won't work cause niggas, don't believe enough

They rather stand on the corners, and recieve a cuff...

Around they wrist, you don't like the sound of this rebel, but my country doesnt want me

They rather hunt me, but you'll never catch us all

While your fucking with the dealers, when we sticking up the malls

Full of anger, all about danger, pulling out my banger, stabbing up a stranger

I hear walkie-talkies in my sleep, I use a whole lot of slang when I speak

Walking with a vest, the projects is where I rest, and the streets keep me stressed

Staring in your face, wait for you to make a sound, that's when I take you down

Shoot you up and suit you up

All in black, and put you in a box, a hard rock, with a 25 in my socks

Aiming at your temple... so take your diamonds off hands, I'm buckwild like Billy Van Zandt

Prince of pistol-laires, words are crystal clear, and this shoots ya fair

The maniac keeps killing... I'm known as an outlaw cause I'm a Villian!

I keep bullet tricks, out the barrells of a magnum

Put em to sleep, and leave the doctor to tag em

An outlaw, although I never wear a hoister, and every county you see my face is on a poster

Here so many gunshots, my eardrums should pop

Eyesite should stop, from seeing mad niggas drop

To the concrete, I got police putting chalk on the street, and this is done once a week

I'm bout to kill, like Navy Seal, I'm crazy I'll, and what I can't do my 380 will

I never played with a AK, because I'm fine with a nine and out court, I'll do lesser time

Sometimes you gotta plan shit, and understand it

See I'm a bandit whose hammer ich

Without a gun in it, Nas is running it, I stay blunted, I'm the "Projects' Most Wanted"

My voice is like magic... my cassette is the clip and your radio is an automatic

So when I'm in your town duck down

Or take fire,.. Whatever you desire

But I'm on point,.. you might miss,.. never fight this,.. should reciteless, when I strike this

So roll a dice, I'm stopping the blimp, it's I'll how I got the pen dropping the ink

No one could stop this apocalypse

On your record player, or method layer, so run and tell your mayor

Nas the parlayor, you better say your prayer, I'm the "New York City Slayor"

I play how posed, to then lay low, parlay slow, and wear horns not a halo

And keep killing... cause I'm a Villian!