• 標題:Nas Is Like
  • 歌手:Nas
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  • 卡拉OK評級:1★
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  • 上載者:love_autolyric
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    ("Nas is . . ." -Nas) 7x
    Freedom of jail, clips inserted
    A baby is being born the same time my man is murdered
    The beginning and end
    As far as rap go, it's only natural, I explain, my plateau
    And also, what defines my name
    First it was nasty, but times have changed
    Ask me now, I'm the artist, but hardcore, my sign for pain
    I spent time in the game, kept my mind on fame
    Saw fiends shoot up, and do lines of cocaine
    Saw my close friends shot, flatlining, my same
    That the pen carry mac-10's to practice my aim
    On rooftops, tape cd covers to trees
    Line the barrel up with your weed picture and squeeze
    Jesus's scriptures for lost souls, in the crossroads
    To the corners thugs hustlin' for cars that cost dough
    To the big dogs livin' large, takin' it light
    Pushin' big toys, gettin' nice, enjoyin' your life
    Is what you make it, suicide, few try to take it
    Belt tied around their neck, in jail cells naked
    Heaven and hell, rap legend, presence is felt
    And of course N - A - S are the letters that spell . . . NAS, NAS
    Nas, Nas is like . .(scratching) . life or death (scratching)
    My rebel . (scratching). . My poetry's deep, I never fell . .(scratching)
    Nas is like .(scratching) . Nas is like . (scratching). . Half man, half
    amazin' . .(scratching)
    No doubt . (scratching). . Nas is like Nas, Nas is like . .(scratching) . life or death (scratching)
    No doubt . (scratching). . Nas is like
    Earth, wind and fire, rims and tires
    Bulletproof glass, inside is the realest driver
    Planets in orbit, line 'em up with the stars
    Tarot cards, you can see the pharaoh Nas
    (Nas is like. . -Nas)
    Iron mic, messiah type, before the Christ, after the death
    The last one left, let my cash invest in stock
    Came a along way from blasted techs on block
    Went from Seiko to Rolex, ownin' acres
    >From the projects with no chips, to large cake dough
    Dimes, skinnin' fellatio, siete zeros, bet my nine spit for the pesos
    But what's it all worth, can't take it when you under this Earth
    Rich men died and tried, but none of it worked
    They just rob your grave, I'd rather be alive and paid
    Before my number's called, history's made
    Some will fall, but I rise, thug or die, makin' choices
    That determine my future under the sky, to rob, steal or kill
    I'm wondering why, it's a dirty game, is any man worthy of fame
    Much to success to ya, even if you wish me the opposite
    Sooner or later we'll all see who the prophet is
    Sex to a nympho, but nothin' sweet
    I'm like beef, bustin' heat through your windows
    I'm like a street sweeper, green leaf preeper
    Like Greeks in Egypt, learnin' something deep from their teachers
    I'm like crime, like your nine, your man you would die for
    Always got you, I'm like pop to you with crop for it
    I'm like a whole lot of loot, I'm like crisp money
    Corporate accounts from a rich company
    I'm like ecstasy for ladies, I'm like all races combined in one man
    like the '99 summer jam, bulletproof hummer man
    I'm like being locked down around new faces, and none of 'em fam
    I'm the feeling of a millionaire spendin' a hundred grand
    I'm a poor man's dream, a thug poet
    Live it, and I write down and I watch it blow up
    Y'all know what I'm like, ya play it your system every night
    Nas, Nas is like . .