Listen up gangstas and honeys with ya hair done
Pull up a chair hon' and put it in the air son
Dog, whatever they call you, god, just listen
I spit a story backwards, it starts at the ending
The bullet goes back in the gun
The bullet hole's closin this chest of a n****
Now he back to square one
Screamin, \"Shoot don't please\"
I put my fifth back on my hip
It's like a VCR rewindin a hit
He put his hands back on his b****
My caravan doors open up
I jumped back in the van and closed it shut
Goin reverse, slowly prepared
My n**** Jungle utters out somethin crazy like, \"Go he there\"
Sittin in back of this chair, we hittin the roach
The smoke goes back in the blunt, the blunt gets bigger in growth
Jungle unrolls it, put his weed back in the jar
The blunt turns back into a cigar
We listen to Stevie, it sounded like heavy metal fans
Spinnin records backwards of AC/DC
I give my n****s dap, jump out the van back first
Back upstairs, took off the black shirt
I'm in the crib with the phone to my ear
Listen up so why'all can figure out the poem real clear
The voice on the phone was like, \"Outside right we\"
So with my mouth wide, holdin my heat
Bullets I had plenty to squeeze, plenty for ya
'Cause Jungle said, \"Block your on enemies the\"
Hung up the phone, then the phone rang \u003cphone ringing\u003e
I'm laid in the bed thinkin 'bout this pretty young thing
Who left, she came back, her clothes just fell to the rug
She fell to my bed and gave me a hug
I told her, \"No hell\"
She talkin 'bout, \"Me kiss\"
Bobbed her head then spit the nut back in my dick
Started suckin with no hands, a whole lotta spit
Then got up and put her bra back on her tits
Got fully dressed and told me, \"Stressed really I'm\"
Picked up her Gucci bag and left her n**** behind
Walkin through the door, she rang the bell twice
I vomited Vodka back in my gla** with juice and ice
The clock went back from three, to two, to one
And that's about the time the story begun
That's when I first heard the voicemail on the cell
It said, \"Son we found that n**** we gotta kill\"
Ay yo son, ay yo son, you hear me, you hear me?
Listen man, this dude right on the block, right now, man
I found him, right now, I see him right now!
Let's kill him)
\"Yo, this Nas, leave it. Peace\"
|LETRAS DE NAS|
LILLIAN HARDIN ARMSTRONG,RICK RUBIN
SONY/ATV MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC