Loco-Motive (feat. Large Professor)

(Ooh, ooh, ooh)

(42nd Street Terminal)

Yo, yo, I live it and I speak it, my religion is reefer

Big money and the most uninhibited freak to sleep with

My visions are realistic, nothing is figurative

I can wish it into existing, God want this nigga to live

Blunt big as a dread, I get high and forget who bled

Who we stomp-kicked in the head and who we left for dead

Who are you niggas? Why argue niggas?

The truth is the truth, I really put my scars on niggas

They wear them lifetime, they tell they hoes, Nas did this

Pointing to they scars like, right here, baby, really Nas did this

Like a badge of honor, not bragging I'm just honest

War stories we tell them, nothing's realer than karma

Sip prohibition liquor, prohibition whiskey

Rap Jack Dempsey, matte black Bentley, pimply

Shattering your silence, passing round the chalice

Due to my Indian ancestry at the weed dispensery

Official kings and gents is who I mix and mingle with

Fuck your ice, I rock rubies, amethyst

I'll fuck your wife 'cause she a groupie, scandalous

This for my bad hood bitches, ghetto glamorous

Yo, what we talking 'bout niggas?

What we talking 'bout niggas?

This is Nas, what, Nas

What, Nasty, what, recollect motherfucker (uh, uh, uh)

At 17 I made 17 thousand living in public housing

Integrity intact, repping hard

They asking how he disappear and reappear back on top

Saying Nas must have naked pictures of God or something

To keep winning is my way like Francis

As long as I'm breathing, I'll take chances

A soldier coming home, 20 years old with no legs

Sayin' there's no sense to cry and complain, just go 'head

So much to write and say, yo, I don't know where to start

So I'll begin with the basics and flow from the heart

I know you think my life is good 'cause my diamond piece

But my life been good since I started finding peace

I shouldn't even be smiling, I should be angry and depressed

I been rich longer than I been broke, I confess

I started out broke, got rich, lost paper, then made it back

Like Trump being up down up, play with cash, huh

My nigga's like a locomotive

Nas, we pushed it, mush it

Queensbridge to Bushwick

Harlem, Bronx, all that

You ain't even supposed to be here

You know where you at?

At night, New York, eat a slice too hot

Use my tongue to tear the skin hanging from the roof of my mouth

Shit was felicissimo melting pot, city sweltering hot

Staggering, drunker than them cops that 2Pac shot

I was a crook by the train with that iron thing, concealed reaching

Soon as I heard them iron wheels screeching

When it came to a halt whoever walked off got caught

Token man safe behind a locked door for sure

Minor thief shit, minor league shit, beasting

Looking for the juks young, but now we older chiefing

In my truck, play The Greatest Adventures of Slick Rick

Bugging on how his imagination was so sick

It's ghetto beef, sinister niggas snicker through yellow teeth

Alcohol aging my niggas faster than felonies

How dare I, must be, something in the air that corrupts me

Look at my upkeep, owned and sublease

I'm here y'all

This for my trapped in the '90s niggas

For my trapped in the '90s niggas

Ha, for y'all niggas