Lyrics White Label - Nas

Y'all niggas better not be coming around me with that fugazi no more
You know?
Got that thang for your ass, you know?
(I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna
I'm gonna have to leave you)
A Vet stylin' at Met Gala, tuna salad from La Scala
Black sweats, swallow a lot of reefer
God, it hard to quit the bottom feeder, lobster eater
When I fast, I see Elijah's features
A million cash for a Nas feature
Nas cheaper, do it for free if you do it for me
52 bar verse if the beat is movin' me
Stumble through customs, coppin' Cubans at the Duty Free
Layin' on the most expensive beds, still I'm losin' sleep
Next to Jet's Beauty of the Week 1993
Chin-grabber, neck-choker, in-her-mouth-spitter
Blouse-ripper, ass-gripper, that dig-you-out nigga
I ain't gon' hold you, old head gave me old news
I don't owe you, shoulda heard when I told you
You are an extension of what I've worked hard to build
You believe in your own lies, can't be real
And the odds is that what you love can kill you
Like a heart physician who dies from a heart attack
I know the consumer behavior, I target that
You impressed with what they wearin', I started that
It's kinda terrific, the product of Slick Rick
Somebody woulda told me then I would come outta this shit rich
And start up a business, I woulda thought they was playin'
All them niggas I ran with, all that weight they was weighin'
A light bulb switched in my mind at the classes I cut
Just a spazz puttin' wax in the blunt
The baddest I want, she wear Lipmatic to front
We building businesses, you can be mad if you want
It's bubbly 'til it's bubbles we see
Drinkin' like Dean Martin is nothin' to me
The spirits is somethin' I can't part and it's fun to be me
So cheers, here's to the Kanye production this eve
Watered roses, it's war, baby
My nigga High said it's me, I drive 'em all crazy
(I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna
I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna
I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna)