N.O.R.E. - Blood Money (Part 2)

rate me

(feat. Nas, Nature)

[intro: Noreaga talking]


Yo, New Orleans, LA, Va to Queens, I-95, where we never drive clean

But good, gotta get out the hood, to really make it, now we kick it

Until our whole team'll take it to another level, another Rolie wit

Another bezel, like war against God against another devil

Sustainin, now we rim Moschino, niggaz say we taped it, switched it

Now it's Cristal, instead of Mistic, Jose, catch me wit a pigeon and

A gold biscuit, gettin mad lifted, let me find out, it's sellin dimes

Out my crack house, yeah that's crashed out, let me catch that

Just like Stackhouse, kick ya back out, have you mad vexed

Like you did your whole bid, but didn't max out, yo Jose is

In other words courageous, from South Carolina to D.C.

Yo the NC in Atlanta like Montana, comin out the airport wit the hammer

Motherfucker, smoke more weed than Chris Tucker, in Friday

When he treated Worm like a sucker, in three ways

Sell a whole key in three days, the way I know the crack game'll have you


In the ill days, yo I drink Lectaid, Jose is sayin chulo, like Menegay

South side lost royal and royal, grand royale in Ohio, Cincinnati, Minnesoto

Yo from Philly to Connecticut, got niggaz settin in, all predicate

Like this rap game is pregnant, N-O-R-E, Nore

Stand for Niggaz On the Run Eatin, no matter if they still treatin

The object of the game is just to stay leavin, hit me on the Nokio

Let me know if you still breathin, top grenade, ice it up, cop pies, slice it


You really think you nice enough, fuck around wit Trice Allah

Even seekin scrolls until your world fall in, to my niggaz gettin they props

Where they supposed to've been, don't rush, take your time

The best come to those who wait, like Heinz, they be ketchup and spoil your


Aiyyo it's I-95, wit my niggaz lost faith, wha!

[Chorus x2: Nas (Noreaga)]

Blood money (That's what this life lead to)

Blood money (That's how my niggaz bleed to)

Blood money (That's what we smoke weed to)

Blood money (That's how my niggaz eat to)


Aiyyo, eatin from the same plate, and drinkin from the same cup

Whoever thought that some much would have to change

I went to games as a Knicks fan, they had Strickland, they traded him

Ever since then, son, I hated them, shit's turnin sour in the N-Y

Half the team hurt, still niggaz get high and rock Queens shirts

Feinds on the block know me for holdin b's work

Seein chips poppin up in European whips, exceed the speed limit

Tinted up and weed scented, treatin life like the auto bomb, never slow up

I'm gettin head for being young and vulger, fly gifted

Y'all niggaz die over bitch shit, I got some hoes in the law gettin high

Like Rik Smits, born hypocrit, every now and then be on some different shit

Switch directions, my bad, quick disception

My first love is for bloody money so skip the extras



Now what's a don?, a nigga that's a thug wit a charm, always on point

As soon as he's on, his goons'll respond, he move right and fear losin his


Mad dime, but never could fit the shoes of his wife

You could tell by the finger nails, clean, hair diced up, every four days

A weekly routine, where he lived, stay out the hood, fuck what a nigga say

Out for blood, but yo, lustin the dough, he see snake smile for way

In the same garden he play, but a true don'll get his proper groove on

He tell the truth even when he lies, give you a fake name

Even though his name is Nas, god body, and wide body, rumble for five

To the S-Class, six niggaz, double your size, either come wit a plan

To make it happen, cuz sellin weight or rappin, we still trapped in a slave


And keep the crackers laughin

(That's what this life lead to)


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