Текст песни Affirmative Action (Remix) - Nas featuring Foxy Brown & AZ
This
is
what...
this
what
they
want
huh?
This
is
what
it's
all
about.
What?
Time
to
take
Affirmative
Action
son
They
just
don't
understand,
youknowImean?
Niggaz
comin
sideways
thinkin
stuff
is
sweet
man
Yknahmean?
Niggaz
don't
understand
the
four
devils:
Lust.
Envy.
Hate.
Jealousy
Wicked
niggaz
man
Yo,
sit
back
relax
catchin
contacts,
sip
your
cog-nac
And
let's
all
wash
this
money
through
this
laundry
mat
Sneak
attack,
a
new
cat
sit
back,
worth
top
dollar
In
fact,
touch
mines,
and
I'll
react
like
a
Rottweiler
Who
pull
the
late,
we
play
for
high
stakes
at
gunpoint
Catch
em
and
break,
undress
em
tie
em
with
tape,
no
escape
The
Corleone,
fettucini
Capone
Roam
in
your
own
zone
or
get
kidnapped
and
clapped
in
your
dome
We
got
it
sewn,
The
Firm
art
of
war
is
unknown
Lower
your
tone,
face
it,
homicide
cases
get
blown
Aristocrats,
politickin
daily
with
diplomats
See
me
I'm
an
official
mack,
Lex
Coupe
triple
black
Criminal
thoughts
in
the
blue
Porsche,
my
destiny's
to
be
the
new
boss
That
nigga
Paulie
gotta
die
- he
too
soft
That
nigga's
dead
on,
a
key
of
her-oin,
they
found
his
head
on
the
couch
with
his
dick
in
his
mouth,
I
put
the
hit
out
Yo,
the
smoothest
killer
since
Bug
sy,
bitches
love
me
And
Queens
where
my
drugs
be,
I
wear
Guess
jeans
and
rugbies
Yo
my
people
from
Medina
they
will
see
you
when
you
re-up
on
your
heater
all
your
cream
go
betweeen
us
Real
shit,
my
Desert
Eagle
got
a
ill
grip
I
chill
with,
niggaz
that
hit
Dominican
spots
and
steal
bricks
My
red
beam,
made
a
dread
scream,
and
sprayed
a
Fed
team
Corleone
be
turnin
niggaz
to
fiends
Yukons
and
ninja
black
Lexus,
'Mega
the
pretty
boy
with
mafia
connections
it's
The
Firm
nigga
set
it
Yo,
my
mind
is
seein
through
your
design
like
blind
fury
I
shine
jewelry
sippin
on
crushed
grapes,
we
lust
papes
and
push
cakes
inside
the
casket
at
Just
wake
It's
sickenin,
he
just
finished
biddin
upstate
And
now
the
projects,
is
talkin
that
somebody
gotta
die
shit
It's
logic,
as
long
as
it's
nobody
that's
in
my
clique
My
man
Smoke,
know
how
to
expand
coke,
and
Mr.
Coffee
Feds
cost
me
two
mill'
to
get
the
system
off
me
"Life's
a
Bitch,"
but
God-forbid
the
bitch
divorce
me
I'll
be
flooded
with
ice
so
hellfire
can't
scorch
me
Cuban
cigars
meetin
Foxy
at
Demars
Movin
cars,
your
top
papi
Senor
Escobar
In
the
black
Camaro
Firm
deep
all
my
niggaz
hail
the
blackest
sparrow
Wallabee's
be
the
apparel
Through
the
darkest
tunnel,
I
got
visions
of
multimillions
in
the
biggest
bundle,
in
the
Lex
pushed
by
my
nigga
Jungle
He
money
bags
got
Moet,
Sean
Don
Bundle
of
sixty-two,
they
ain't
got
a
clue
what
we
about
to
do
My
whole
team
we
shittin
hard
like
Czar
Sosa,
Foxy
Brown,
Cormega,
and
Escobar
I
keep
a
fat
marquis
piece,
laced
in
all
the
illest
snake
skin
Armani
sweaters
Carolina
Hebrera
Be
The
Firm
baby,
from
BK
to
the
'Bridge
My
nigga
Wiz,
operation
Firm
Biz,
so
what
the
deal
is
I
keep
a
phat
jew-el,
sippin
Crist-ies
Sittin
on
top
of
fifty
grand
in
the
Nautica
Van,
uhh!
We
stay
incogni'
like
all
them
thug
niggaz
in
Marcy
The
Gods,
they
praise
Allah
with
visions
of
Gandhi
Bet
it
on,
my
whole
crew
is
Don
Juan
On
Cayman
Island
with
a
case
of
Cristal
and
Papa
Chula
spoke
Nigga
with
them
Cubans
that
snort
coke
Raw
though,
an
ounce
mixed
wit
leak
that's
pure
though
Flippin
the
bigger
picture,
the
bigger
nigga
with
the
cheddar
Was
mad
dripper,
he
had
a
fuckin
villa
in
Manilla
We
got
to
flee
to
Panama,
but
wait
it's
half
and
half
Keys
is
one
and
two-fifth,
so
how
we
flip
Thirty-two
grams
raw,
chop
it
in
half,
get
sixteen,
double
it
times
three
We
got
forty-eight,
which
mean
a
whole
lot
of
cream
Divide
the
profit
by
four,
subtract
it
by
eight
We
back
to
sixteen,
now
add
the
other
two
that
'Mega
bringin
through
So
let's
see,
if
we
flip
this
other
key
Then
that's
more
for
me,
mad
coke
and
mad
leak
Plus
a
five
hundred,
cut
in
half
is
two-fifty
Now
triple
that
times
three,
we
got
three
quarters
of
another
ki
The
Firm
baby,
volume
one
uhh.
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