fuck up

fuck up

NaS - 1996 Freestyle [HQ] + Lyrics

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http://rapgenius.com/Nas-1996-freestyle-lyrics What up? Escobar season begins Repent your sins Nine-Six Check it Spark the lye with the eight-forty I fly Pretty thug show no love its like when doves cry Maybe I'm just too demanding, parked the Land Mark Buchanan, fuck a job I'mma die scramblin Digger gold, dig a bigger hole in ya soul Que Pasa, Pablo's throne cabron At the airport the Mobb picked me up in a truck Jewelry chunky like fuck never scared to get stuck So whats the deal Papi? Heard the feds could of knocked me Had the cuban posse all up in my room and lobby Negotiating, my name holds weight, we motivatin' Hustling, as if God was dancing with Satan The Firm waitin', to get ajourned cause we facing Double life, thuggin for life, you taste it The white numbin ya toungue I bought it from Dominicans A suitcase of benjamins swung tight in his fingers Had the Firm gun slingers, hit the lights, grab the white Murder everything in site, and jet in the beamers Now im home with the phone screaner Resting the stones in a jewelry cleaner Checkin my mail reading my supoena To the witness standing, I got remanded Livin on the 4th building and can't stand it Gotta fight my case from the inside Niggas telling, I felt it coming when my pockets started swelling But thats the game for ya Hid a stash to ya lawyers Supreme court, Queens New York will bore ya' Suited up, booted up, with the jail cut Million dollar bail what? Z put up the house and I was out Word the Fuck Up Time to get the shit on son Tryna trap a nigga Incarcerate me yo' Check it tho, yo, yo Im gonna make it if I try, cross my heart hope to die (cross my heart hope to die) Im gonna make it if I try, cross my heart hope to die Praise the Lord, ive been scarred with hot water Days are shorter, next court dates around the corner Money ain't the same, shit is outta order Since the days of Rich Porter Something gotta give, I ain't trying to bid Now I run up in cribs, body shit, but no women no kids In the Bridge where the murderers live I used to make a quarter million monthly I was ill until they sunk me Killed the snitch with the pump 3 shots Bought a passport off a junkie The Firm helped me flee out the country Word and I'm out, Pakastinian land Chilling with my man Jungle The commissioner Stout Killa B, what it is nigga firm biz