NAS - Where s The Love feat. Cocaine 80s lyrics

rate me

At times I window watch at the Wynn hotel

Lots of thinking happens in life, will I win or fail?

Mind of a shooter, CFO also

Ethiopian food flown in, it's unlawful

Money is attractive, honey dress strapless

Agent Provocateur underwear: she's classic

Stroll up in the party: titanium black car

Romanian ladies like Casablanca, Casbah

'Cept we in the VIP area, that's ours

You know the real rap gods, typical trap star turned rap star

These old heads got stories, the days they was kings

I pray secret indictments don't take away their dreams

You 16, you could do 20, come home young

Catch 20 years when you 40? Holmes, you're done

What have we become? Rap stars from trap stars

Black gods to Ansars to Sunnis back to goonies

A 360 in the streets real grizzly

Shooters is cold, kid, the old shit was learning

Student enrollment to focus, yet hooligans roll with

Toasters to pop your medullas off of your shoulders

This ain't the Truman Show; it's the human show

Ask the F.B.I. agent at his cubicle

Chewing on his pencil eraser with intents to erase you

It's U.S.A. against the gangsta, where's the love?

[Chorus]

Love, I'll trade you love

I've traded fire with you long enough

Is that all you brung? It's not love

That's fucked up, but I saved your soul

Roll that up

Sometimes I sit on the bench just to watch the game

Feet on cement, there ain't a mobster living I could name

Who made it out rich, in his absence I do not proclaim

To not have a heart like wild animals not tamed

Maybe just a typical thug nigga was my rank

'Cept I had a vision above niggas, what I think

It's crazy how many brothers come where I come from

Some made it out big, some dead, some unsung

Shots for soldiers on 23 hours lock-up

Younger generation, they want to mimic and mock us

Laughing, separating themselves like they not us, like

"Cops'll look at you like they look at me? That's preposterous"

Ain't it gangsta how your man made it? I'm humble

One gun, one crazy ass nigga, that's jungle

Now we having babies, cause growing up it was just us

No uncles or cousins to fight with us, we was fucked up

But still it was beautiful, the love is mutual

Even though me and Jung ain't show up to your funeral

I hold your son hand, tell him he the man, we love you

Your pops was king, you have a whole lot to live up to

The G is in your genes, already you tuck

Inherit your dad's swag, it's George Jefferson's strut

Stay flyest, they gon' want to know what in your diet

Don't be surprised if they want to check your shit and your vomit

Tell them you let it marinate, they swear you made them a promise

No matter what they do, you just stay a man of honor

I'm a street corner nigga, New York Knicks loyalist

Corona sipper, pass it out, might blow it with you

It ain't the Truman show, it's the human show

Ask the F.B.I. agent at his cubicle

Chews on his pencil eraser with intents to erase you

Young brother go and get your paper, I got love

[Chorus]