《Made You Look》歌詞:by Gibbs Lordan Nas Nas mp3歌詞

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Various Artists

NAS – Made You Look

[shotgun blast]

[old school break beat, thugs chant ‘Bravehearts!’ 7X]

[Verse 1:Nas]

Uh, uh, uh, now let’s get it all in perspective

For all y’all enjoyment, a song y’all can step wit’

Y’all appointed me to bring rap justice

But I ain’t five-O, y’all know it’s Nas yo

Grey goose and a whole lotta hydro

Only describe us as soldier survivors

Stay laced in the best, well dressed with finesse

In a white tee lookin for wifie

Thug girl who fly and talks so nicely

Put her in the coupe so she can feel the nice breeze

We can drive thru the city no doubt, but don’t say my car’s topless

Say the titties is out, newness here’s the anthem

Put your hand up that you shoot with, count your loot wit’

Push the pool stick in your new crib, same hand that you hoop with

Swing around like you stu-pid, king’a the town, yeah I been that

You know I click-clack where you and yor men’s at

Do the Smurf, do the Wop, Baseball Bat

Rooftop like we bringing ’88 back

[Chorus: Nas]

They shootin’! — Aw made you look

You a slave to a page in my rhyme book

Gettin’ Big/’big’ money, playboy your time’s up

Where them gangstas? Where them dimes at?

They shootin’! — Aw made you look

You a slave to a page in my rhyme book

Gettin’ Big/’big’ money, playboy your time’s up

Where them gangstas at? Where them dimes at?

[Verse 2: Nas]

This ain’t rappin, this is Street-Hop

Now get up off your ass like your seat’s hot

My live niggaz lit up the reefer

Trunk’a the car we got the streetsweeper

Don’t start none, won’t be none

No reason for your mans to panic

You don’t wanna see no ambulances

Knock a pimp’s drink down in his pimp cup

That’s the way you get Timberland’d up

Let the music diffuse all the tension

Ball or convention, free admission

Hustlers, dealers and killers’ca move swift

Girls get close, you’ca feel where the tool’s kept

All my just-comin’ homies, parolees

Get money, leave the beef alone slowly

Get out my face, you people so phoney

Pull out my waist, the eagle fo-forty

[Chorus]

[thugs chanting ‘Bravehearts!’ 4X over DJ scratching gunshots]

[Verse 3: Nas]

I see niggaz runnin’, yo my mood is real rude

I lay you out, show you what steel do

Mobsters don’t box, my pump shot obliges

Every invitation to fight you punk hazas

Like Pun said, ‘You ain’t even en mi clasa’

Maybach Benz, back seat, tv plasma

Ladies lookin for athletes or rappers

Whatever you choose, whatever you do

Make sure he a thug and intelligent too

Like a real thoroughbred is, show me love

Lemme feel how the head is

Females whose the sexiest is always the nastiest

[record scratched off, Nas rhymes acapella]

And I like a little sassiness, a lotta class

Mommy reach in your bag, pass the fifth

I’m a leader, at last this a don you wit’

My nines’ll spit, niggaz loose consciousness

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