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Viewing Lyrics for Made You Look (Remix)(feat. Jadakiss, Ludacris:
| | | Artist: | NAS |
| | Album: | Miscellaneous | | Track: | Made You Look (Remix)(feat. Jadakiss, Ludacris | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 60 | | | | Lyrics: | [Intro: Jadakiss]
I need it from the top, AHHH!
This is history baby
Commissioner
Steve Stoute, Lenny - ha!
God's Son, whattup?
D-Block, whattup?
Bravehearts, whattup?
Yeah
Yeah, yo
[Verse One: Jadakiss]
Yo ain't nothin but trouble God
When
I kick in the door with D-Block, Bravehearts and the Double R
Don't make me let the machine
off
This is methadone music that you can lean off
"Made You Look," the remix with me up on
it
I copped your shit, now I break weed up on it
And everything is real I see
Like my
niggaz that been home but they only got a jail ID
I helped the game, it ain't help me
I'm
top five dead or alive and that's just off one LP
And, I still buzz, they feel cuz
Cause
they know the flow's Ill just like Will was
I'm just tryin to make sure that my sons
wealthy
Out of shape but I make sure that my guns healthy
I'm a ape, you can't stand
'Kiss
Comin through the hood in a Aston Vanguish the color of dandruff
They said we jumped
him, I just let the gun snuff him
Copped P then turboed soon as they uncuff him
This goes
out to all of your mans
Why put you in the verse when I can put in a coroner van
D-Block
[Chorus 2X: Nas]
THEY SHOOTIN! Ah made you look
You a slave to a page
in my rhyme book
Gettin big money, playboy your time's up
Where them gangsters, where them
dimes at?
[Verse Two: Ludacris]
Yuh, woo! It's time to go, Luda let's go!
I'm from the school of hard knocks, sneak peeks and low blows
Where X's mark spots and
kitchens mark O's
Where love is gon' getcha and hate is gon' snitch ya
And fingers squeeze
triggers like boa constrictors
It's the, Mr. Luda, Jada and Nas
And our bullets give you a
deep tissue massage
So hear a song and dance while I make these ends
You never stood half
a chance like Siamese Twins
AHHH - THEY SHOOTIN, look in the barrel
Then he made the front
page of the Miami Herald
or Chi. Tribune, nozzles with silent doom
We in that A-Town
Journal-list, filed with goons
You should print my information, quote my rhyme
And keep me
in between these New York and L.A. Times
I was the victim of society, it's 'Cris the
menace
With mo' shit out on the streets than evicted tenants
WOOOOOOOO!
[Chorus]
[Interlude: Nas]
Uhh.. uhh..
(BRAVE-HEARTS.. BRAVE-HEARTS..
BRAVE-HEARTS.. BRAVE-HEARTS..)
Jungle, Wiz, Nashawn!
We got 'em scared look
We got
'em scared they runnin
[Verse Three: Nas]
Yo, I grasp the ratchet, the blinker, the
biscuit, the burner
The heat, the toaster, the twister you meetin your owner
The banger,
the hammer, the flamers I aim at the cannons
and can ya, manhandlin ya, you'll be famous like
cancer do
And cut, that's the end of your movie
Pretendin you actin like you and your
mens'll come shoot me
My tennis shoes Gucci, old school pea soup green
Jean Lee suit on
Beaver, clicko champagne
Friday the 13th my CD drop, I rhyme to more Base than EZ Rock
I'm
Jason, call up P.D. watch
them Bravehearts, Jungle and Wiz and Nashawn
Ill Will rasta
Lake, never revealin his face on
TV or pictures or even them niggaz
Sorry that I made you
wait long, glad them fakes gone
[beat scratches out]
WE SHOOTIN! Squeezin them triggers
with Luda beside me
Me and 'Kiss get Luniz of weed, set to Styles P.
Tell him hold his
head, God's Son got him we made y'all look
From San Quentin to Riker's Island to.. [fades
out]
[Thanks to mike_puertorico02@yahoo.com for these lyrics] | | | |
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