Lyrics:
time, reinvent yourself, and you will get far
Sometimes you have to pull yourself up
When no one gives you a hand
Maybe it's a good thing, they ain't
many different people
I smoke
Bats with cats who opened up their sacks
And put that shit in my hand
And never asked for it back
My thinking cap, that's
Hennessy different
You get ya crew jammed up
I got my blue bands up
I'll put you down when we come in
Contact like this two hand touch
Arsonal puts his hands
Niggas get sprayed up like AK was cologne for a paycheck or loan
Yeah I know that shit ain't fair
They say that Detroit ain't got a chance, we ain't even
If you know what's good
If you know what's good
Haters gon' say it's fake so real
Haters gon' say it's fake so real
I said, put your filthy hands all
If you know what's good
If you know what's good
Haters gon' say it's fake so real
Haters gon' say it's fake so real
I said, put your filthy hands all
need money, moolah
Not you again, to be honest
I'm making dough, lots of it
Step by step no need to run
She held my hand, I let her go
Don't call me
, light it and live it up
For the drunk, turn it up, I never give a fuck
If you wanna talk, best press record
When I hear your songs, I just get bored
and try to hide your hand
Just say his name and I promise that you'll see Candyman
Because it's all in your eyes, most of y'all tell lies
Most of y'all
I've been tryna cash bhad Bhabie outside since that phil Show
Walk up near ho, give her a Creepy smile like a weirdo
Get real close say what's your
Need to get a lot of
Stuff off my chest i want everyone
To know that your dreams
Are not invalid this is
An autobiography of ideology, I need to do
snorin' your flow borin'
Sort of like channel five at four in the mornin'
(Rock) Adult (made under on the par) give up hope
Grab the devil by the throat
sheets we pull up to his SoHo hotel
And he asks if we can idle while he runs in
To get "studio-ready" A few
Minutes later, he emerges
Laptop in hand he's
Still the man of the Lord I know
Raising my hand to your glory oh Lord
Swimming in your love and dough oh boy
Going higher and higher and higher
Of y'all?
I'm Nas on a track that's unorthodox
Like my life could've been offed by the cops
Told y'all, Nas will prevail by the book when it's up for sale
niggas money's gettin' low
But could you come back though, set up shop, and get the fat glow?
Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all
So what the deal
up sound man, that ain't much to ask, yo
Yo, where was I? Oh yeah, the ladies
Throw your hands up so I can read your lifeline
(Peter picked peppers)
Snatch the airbag, hit the corner and park it
Corner the market, I got her tied up in a chair and gagged
Bitches get smacked and grabbed by the hair
of heaven
When King Fergie left the scene he made our hearts heavy
And every generation needs Ngamla Menzi
Too many of the realist are just passing by
Too
compensate by wanting to be self made it's
The reason I get depressed
I feel stuck then I get stressed
So I strive and strive so I don't end up in a ditch
Then
of waitin'
These industry niggas startin' to get outta hand
Like I won't find your whereabouts by stompin' 'em out ya man (what?)
We killin' New York, even
of a tsunami crashing against the shores sweeping all life and structures out to sea.
You can either choose to merely skim the shallow shores and only get your
more light cause yours got dim
Then you get sparked by the Lord Rakim
What's the matter G, check your battery
Go get charged up, then come battle
to the cosmic
Whatever they rock with
Is something non-toxic chop it
Mix the green juice with the CrossFit
Better get my weight up
You other niggas lost it
Drip,
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