The Art Of It (ft. J. Myers)

Uh, fire spitter, I ain't never met a higher nigga

Me extinguished is like Queensbridge fiendless

Mansion, marble foyer

I can afford a closet in alphabet order

A life, Adidas under A, the B for beater, Bottega

British Knights sneaker, my C so ill

That, man, I get chills when I look at my Christian Diors, they kill

D is for Dries Van Noten

Young niggas try to keep up with what I'm doing

D cups, tequila and blunts

Weed, women, and liquor

Depending on the day is a different mission

They not knowing, they wanna know what he got on

The QB Don went and got his Pete Rock on

Nas keep a fine bitch to roll his weed up for him

My niggas in Mount Vernon keep it G'd up for him

Speaking of G, the gat I'm good with it, hit your hood with it

.44s never could miss him, coming to see us

Glad to see you made it home to the hood, nigga

We blowing trees, tell me, don't it feel good, nigga?

Damn it feels good, it feels good don't it?

La-la-la (yeah)

Put that good shit in the air (yeah)

La-la-la

Niggas in the hood don't live forever (my G niggas)

As long as we together (my QB niggas)

We gon' put that good shit in the air (yeah)

La-la-la

Another bullet manufactured, another man in his casket

Fuck maintaining, that's lame language

Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, I duck quick

Seen fire flashes, the type of fire that spit out a magnum

And I'm the type who runs to the drama looking for who clapping

Nike boot, what I eat him, he like food

Pulled out the barrel

Four-fifths rip through bone marrow

Make his toes spiral the dirt

While his feet kick up rock, he's a sprinter

Police agenda, lock up niggas for three winters

When I attack I'm faceless like a iron mask

They get away quick, traceless, lying back, liars pass

I breathe deep like Lamaze class

Live young, obtain wisdom, and die last

Stretched out or in a body bag, I ain't that

Live young, obtain wisdom, and die last

Damn it feels good, it feels good don't it?

La-la-la (yeah)

Put that good shit in the air (yeah)

La-la-la

Niggas in the hood don't live forever (my G niggas)

As long as we together (my QB niggas)

We gon' put that good shit in the air (yeah)

La-la-la

Look, I don't have that much time, candidly, I'm in divorce

Rumors, DUIs, in and out of court

Different judges, assault charges hovers on your boy

Other niggas' wives lust to be under covers with your boy

Y'all don't want an angry Nas on your label

Y'all got plenty checks, CEO, man

I'm only 36, but if it's, point five on the table

I say with all respect my dude

Thank you, we had the best times, but I'm about respect, I'm about the talent I possess

Never know, there could just be a time when I'm behind your desk, then let you go

Could you imagine Nas the exec?

The artist on the masters controlling your release

Probably they wanna wait 'til I'm deceased to honor me

So my product'll be a big commodity

Not bothered if my son and daughter eat off of me

Cautiously I write this next line honestly 'cause I'm a G, there's no beef

I used to open off making 50 G's

But now I spend that on a diamond to make her neck freeze

My larynx'll serenade the hood

I tell the cops my blood dirty, they say I'm all good

TMZ, they hoping when the marriage end I'ma turn to Larry Flynt

Nas is not the average gent, I'm on my classy shit

Here's one small percent of what y'all in store to get

More real nigga shit

Damn it feels good, it feels good don't it?

La-la-la (yeah)

Put that good shit in the air (yeah)

La-la-la

Niggas in the hood don't live forever (my G niggas)

As long as we together (my QB niggas)

We gon' put that good shit in the air (yeah)

La-la-la