NAS

NAS - NASTY lyrics

rate me

[Word

Got some Remy Martin, some good-ass cigars

Check it out]

Ayo, late night, candlelight, fiend wit’ diesel in his needle

Queensbridge leader, no equal, I come from the Wheel of Ezekiel

To pop thousand-dollar bottles of scotch, smoke purp, 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 moves, 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 a Tunnel escape 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

When lids 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 all you envy, but don’t offend

I’m skinny, but still I’m too big for a Bentley

You are your car, what could represent?

Too Godly to be a Bugatti, you honestly

Must design me somethin’ Tommy Mottonic from Queens had before the ’90s

Drug dealer call, 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 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

(Nasty)

Nasty kid

(Nasty)

Yeah

(Nasty)

The kid!

(Nasty)

Nasty kid

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 wit’”

I display fashions while my lungs engage hashes, guns on my waist past his

Since I’m cakin’ up, put funds in my safe, laughin’

And joining the niggas 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 niggas, your 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, nigger

<br />

<br />

Thanks to adrianna

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found