|
|
|
- 391,174 lyrics
- 3,551 artists
|
|
|
Viewing Lyrics for Got Yourself A Gun:
| | | Artist: | Nas |
| | Album: | Stillmatic | | Track: | Got Yourself A Gun | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 133 | | | | Lyrics: | [sample singing]
"Woke up this mornin', you got yourself a gun, you got yourself a gun"..
[Chorus]
Yo I'm livin' in this time behind enemy lines
so I got mine, I hope you
("got yourself a gun")
You from the hood, I hope you ("got yourself a gun"
you want beef I
hope ya ("got yourself a gun")
And when I see you I'ma take what I want
so you tried to
front, hope ya ("got yourself a gun")
You ain't real, hope ya ("got yourself a gun")
[Verse 1]
My first album had no famous guest appearances
the outcome, I'm was crowned the
best lyricist
many years on this professional level
why would you question who's
better?
the World is still mine, tattoos real
with "God's Son" across the belly, the boss
of rap
you saw me in Belly with thoughts like that
to take it back to Africa, I did it
with Biggie
Me and 2Pac were soldiers of the same struggle
You lames should huddle, your
teams shook y'all feel
the wrath of a killer, 'cause this is my football field
Throwin'
passes from a barrel, shoulder pads, apparel
but the Q.B. don't stand for no quarterback
every word is like a sawed-off blast
'cause y'all all soft and I'm the black hearse
that
came to haul y'all ass in
it's for the hood by the corner store
many try, many die, come
at Nas if you want a war.
[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
I'm the N the A to the
S-I-R
and If I wasn't I must've been Escobar
you know the kid got his chipped tooth
fixed
Hair parted with a barbers preciseness
Bravehearted for life, it's -
the
return of the Golden Child, son of a blues player
so who are you playa? y'all awaited the true
savior
puffin' that tropical, cups of that Vodka too
Papi chu', tore up, wake up in a
hospital
Throw up? never, 'member I do this through righteous steps
you Judists thought I
was gone, so in light of my death
y'all been all happy go lucky, bunch of sambos
call me
Gods Son, with my pants low
I don't die slow, put them rags up like Petey Pablo
this is
Nasdaq dough, in my Nascar with this Nas flow, reppin'
hit the record sto', never let me go,
get my whole collection.
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
It's - the - return of the
Prince, the boss
this is real hardcore, Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit's soft
sip criss, get
chips, wrist gliss, I floss
stick shift look sick up in that boxsta Porsche
with the top
cut off, rich kids go and cop the source
they don't know about the blocks I'm on
and
everybody wanna know where the kid live, where he rest at?
where he shop at and dress at?
know he got dough, where does he live?
is he still in the bridge?
does he really know how
ill that he is?
got all of y'all watchin' my moves
my watch and my jewels
hop in my
coupe, dodge interviews like that
It's not only my jewels, ice anything, plenty chains
Look at my tennis shoes, I iced that
Who am I? the back twister, lingerie ripper
automatic
leg spreader, quicker brain getter
keepin' it gangsta wit' ya
[Chorus] | | | |
 Add to del.icio.us
 Digg this
 Reddit
|
|
More Nas Lyrics:
|
| 1. | You Wont See Me Tonight view | | 2. | Last Words(feat. Nashawn, Millennium Thug view | | 3. | Poppa Was A Playa view | | 4. | Affirmative Action Remix view | | 5. | The Prediction(feat. Jessica Care Moore, Rich Nice view | | 6. | Affirmative Action (Feath Ntm French Rap) view | | 7. | NY State of Mind view | | 8. | Ghetto Prisoners view | | 9. | Life Is What You Make It view | | 10. | I Want To Talk To You view |
|
|
