paroles de chanson Based On True Events, Pt. 2 - Nas

Yeah, huh
Uh-huh, yeah
Yeah
Uh-huh, one-two
Yeah
Strange out here
Yeah, yeah
(Chapter one)

Fresh cut, lined up, his hair clean, it's not a fair game
Can't trust how they move, and his solitaire chain
His bust down Cuban with the new 'Rari truck
Cuts down the music, he got a call that was confusin'
Heard this kid said
In front of that dude somethin' that never happened
Somethin' being perceived like it's beef, but it's street gossip
It's nothin', ain't bout no cash and hung up the phone
He can tell by the sound of his tone
Next time he see him, it might have to be on
Four Seasons with the heaters
He pull in the valet, he playin' Jackson 5 Maria
Pouring good burgundy, drinking wine by the liter
Million dollar ideas, son a thinker
But he surrounded by negative peers
Minds of seventh graders
Several haters, several losses
Had to get his weight up
"Happy belated gorgeous", he sent a text to his ex
Her tattooed chest where her necklace rest, she covered his name
Thinkin' to himself no other girl could love him the same
She replied, "we still celebrating, come out to Spain"
He jumped right on the plane
He had bright orange leather luggage
When he arrived at the world's oldest restaurant since 1725
Madrid was live
Looking in this woman's eyes
Looking where his name used to be now covered with butterflies
Had a few Spanish connects from touching pies
Just to summarize, he knew a couple guys who had a couple ties
To make a shipment touch down safe
Secured the situation, told shorty, "I'm out, bae"

End of Chapter one
Chapter two

Nigga plottin' on the plane, crunchin' the numbers
Thinkin' how this move gonna help him fuck up the summer
Told his dog who to meet and what he pickin' up from him
Dog said, "We solid, I got you, nigga, we bubblin'"
Since Jamella out in Queens used to have him livin' lovely
She sat down and didn't sing
She got out, he had her comfy
Thinkin' bout coppin' that fly estate with five acres
Three hours from JFK, watch the Knicks vs. the Lakers
When the game was over, he dozed off
When he landed, his man wouldn't answer his phone calls
Did he take it or is he locked behind a stone wall?
Did the Feds wait in undercover patrol cars?
Tried to tell himself not to panic, don't go so far
But what's the law of averages when you done broke laws?
He had to do the math on this, he can't take no loss
Keepin' his poise, at the end of the day
He know that he can trust in his boys

Chapter three

Baggage claim, hurry the fuck up
Askin' TSA, "Is that conveyor belt stuck or what? What's the delay?"
Satan's work, hopin' the devil don't fuck up his day
He had to factor in the facts when it came to the play
He remembered his face last time he was loadin' the safe
Heard him say, "You ain't the only rich nigga who in this place"
Fuck tryna relax, he had to pull up everywhere that this nigga be at
Said, "It ain't like my nigga, know he ain't dip with the stash"
Hold on, I'm almost at the climax
Shots ring out, sounding like some loud hi-hats
His dog got popped at the place of the transaction
Dudes from Spain set him up, straight flattened
On Flatbush Avenue, into a restaurant in the back room
They took the money and drugs and shot him in his half moon
Doing my homework on IG, under his last picture says, "R.I.P."