Money Over Bullshit
Nas Lyrics


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My niggas got scarred grills, skully hats and gats be fully's
Brrrat, cars peel, the East Coast cartel
Rats get their tails snapped and trapped
The snitches in the streets and the snitches who rap
Pure euphoria, a dose of death to all of ya
Coroner choruses sung from The Bridge to Astoria
Dreams of fallin' in the elevator, passin' floors
Suddenly stop, the doors open up to a brick wall
I can smell the haters, wishful thinkers, bad luck prayers
Picture your tarot cards and bodyguards getting sprayed up
Sabotagin' my makeup, my watches get laced up
Even if they indicted Jacob
Forensics, paramedics, carry cowards off
Defibrillators shock to your chest, try to cough
They die and hit Hell from an iron
I'm fly in YSL, I'm paid from this shit
Got bitches high as hell, and they fucking like AIDS don't exist
They get sent to your hotel, a maid and shit
Put a barrel in a capo mouth, 'til his scalp come out
You a kid, you don't live what you rap about
King poetic, too many haters to count
Too much paper to count, QB, bitch

Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength

Got seven candles lit, black wallpaper, black carpet
Thinking about which nigga to target
You kill a nigga today, he lives forever
So I plotted out smarter, there'll be no martyrs
Black TEC on the table, Mag .44
Black negligee on my bitch, she's at the door
Black fish eggs, nigga, that's the caviar
You niggas fish-made, y'all niggas is fifth grade
Niggas, it's fifty ways to dissect the General
If I give ya the top five, you will not survive
Rule 1: cocksucker, keep my name from your tongue
Rule 2: thought you knew don't fuck with God's Son
Rule 3: see, matter fact, I just wait
If y'all reach top five, then I'ma eat y'all alive
Each one of you guys that claim Hip-Hop is still alive
Like y'all ain't in agreement with Nas
I said it's dead motherfucker, it's dead, bitch

Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength

From crack pushers to Lac' pushers and ambushers
And morticians to fortresses, case-dismisses
Laced in riches, cake ridiculous
From nickel and dimin' to trickin' them diamonds
Vegas, places in Switzerland
From non-blastin' to auto, I don't have to blast mine
They blast mine, black 9, you flatline, my cash climb
Buy rare art, antique pieces, Mona Lisa's, own no leases
Five-star restaurant eaters, don't forget who your peeps is
'Sposed to dine with you, sip that good wine with you
Only if they grind with you or slang for ya
Seen niggas live, laugh, party and die in that very same corner
Pretty girls glance at us, status unconceivable
Private planes landed out in Teterboro, weed I twirl
Once even gave me a phobia, that I be in a spot trapped like
Madame Zenobia's with this kid eyein' my Rollie, y'all

Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Money Over Bullshit, pistols over brawn
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength





There it is, QB, bitch yeah
QB, bitch Yeah, yeah, QB, bitch

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Nas's song "Money Over Bullshit" are about Nas's life in Queensbridge, New York, where he grew up, and his experiences in the rap industry. The song begins with a description of his neighborhood, where his friends are armed with guns and their cars are fast enough to escape from the police. Nas then goes on to criticize "rats" and "snitches," who are either telling on people on the street or participating in rap music that glorifies illegal activities. He describes the joy he feels listening to music about death, and how people's dream of falling in an elevator leads to their death.


In the second verse, Nas raps about how he plans to kill his enemies and to avoid becoming a martyr himself. He also speaks to other rappers who claim that Hip-Hop is still alive, saying Hip-Hop is dead. In the third verse, Nas raps about his wealth, from crack pushers to lac pushers, from nickel and diming to buying rare art. He also describes how private planes landed out in Teterboro and once gave him a phobia.


Overall, "Money Over Bullshit" is about the struggles and the luxuries that came with Nas's life, his thoughts about the rap industry, and his experiences in Queensbridge.


Line by Line Meaning

My niggaz got scarred grills
My crew has dental damage due to violent confrontations


Skully hats and gats be fullys
We wear warm hats and have fully loaded guns


Brrrat, cars peel, the East Coast cartel
Gunshots ring out, cars speed away, and my group is like a powerful criminal organization


Rats get their tails snapped and trapped
Informants face violent retaliation for betraying us


The snitches in the streets and the snitches who rap
Both street informants and rappers who snitch are not tolerated


Pure euphoria, a dose of death to all of ya
I experience great joy in causing death to my enemies


Coroner choruses sung from The Bridge to Astoria
Doctors and morticians in different neighborhoods are kept busy by our deadly actions


Dreams of fallin' in the elevator, passin' floors
I have nightmares of losing control and falling past many floors in an elevator


Suddenly stop, the doors open up to a brick wall
My nightmares end abruptly with a wall blocking my path


I can smell the haters, wishful thinkers, bad luck prayers
I perceive negative energy from people who hate me, hope for my downfall, or pray for my bad fortune


Picture your tarot cards and bodyguards gettin' sprayed up
Imagine your fortune teller's cards and your security detail being shot at


Sabotagin' my makeup, my watches get laced up
My enemies try to spoil my cosmetics and tamper with my high-end timepieces


Even if they indicted Jacob
Even if someone like Jacob (a biblical patriarch accused of deceiving his family) were charged with a crime, I would remain unaffected


Forensics, Paramedics carry cowards off
CSI teams and ambulance crews remove cowardly victims of my violence


Defibrillators shock to your chest, try to cough
Medical personnel try to revive you with electric shocks and ask you to cough


They die and hit Hell from an iron
They die and go to Hell because of my weapon (likely a gun)


I'm flyin', wire or cell, I'm paid from this shit
I am free and wealthy, whether I am traveling by airplane or communicating through a wire in prison


Got bitches high as hell, and they fuckin' like AIDS don't exist
I have women who are heavily intoxicated and having unprotected sex as if AIDS is not a real threat


They get sent to your hotel, a maid and shit
I send these women to your hotel and they even perform housekeeping duties


Put a barrel in a capo mouth, 'til his scalp come out
I put a gun barrel in the mouth of a mafia boss until his scalp gets dislodged


You a kid, you don't live what you rap about
You are not experienced in the things you claim to do in your music


King poetic, too many haters to count
I am the poetic king, with way too many people who hate me to keep track of


Too much paper to count, QB BITCH!
I have way too much money to even bother counting, and I proudly represent Queensbridge


Join me in war, many will live, many will mourn
Follow me into battle, where some of us will survive and others will be mourned


(Money Over Bullshit), pistols over brawn
I prioritize making money over senseless violence and prefer guns as weapons


Afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength
I am not scared of any of you cowards, but I fear the destructive power of my own strength


(My own strength nigga, that's what I'm scared of, ha-ha)
I acknowledge my own formidable nature and laugh about my fear of it


Got seven candles lit, black wallpaper, black carpet
I set the mood for my plotting and scheming with candles, black wallpaper, and black carpet


Thinkin' about which nigga to target
I am considering which enemy to harm or eliminate


You kill a nigga today, he lives forever
If you kill someone today, he will forever be remembered and avenged by his friends and family


So I plotted out smarter, there'll be no Martyrs
So I planned my attack more intelligently to avoid creating martyrs for my enemies


Black Tec on the table, Mag .44
I have a black Tec-9 handgun on the table and a powerful Magnum .44 revolver


Black negligee on my bitch, she's at the door
My woman wears a black, revealing nightgown and awaits me at the entrance


Black fish eggs, nigga, that's the caviar
I indulge in expensive black caviar, which looks like fish eggs


You niggaz fish-made, y'all niggaz is fifth grade
You guys are fake like fish made of weird materials, and you are at a fifth-grade level of skill or knowledge


Niggaz, it's fifty ways to disect the General
There are many ways to sabotage a leader like me


If I give ya the top five, you will not survive
If I reveal the top five ways to harm me, you will not come out alive


Rule 1: cocksucker, keep my name from your tongue
Rule number one is to not speak my name disrespectfully, you lowlife


Rule 2: thought ya knew don't fuck with God's Son
Rule number two should be obvious: do not mess with God's son (me)


Rule 3: see, matter fact, I just wait
Rule number three is for me to simply wait and see what you do


If y'all reach top five, then I'ma eat y'all alive
If you somehow find the top five ways to hurt me, I will still come out on top and destroy you


Each one of you guys that claim Hip-Hop is still alive
All of you who think that Hip-Hop is still thriving are mistaken


Like y'all ain't in agreement wit Nas
You are not in agreement with me, Nas, on the state of Hip-Hop


That shit is dead motha'fucka, it's dead bitch
Hip-Hop is dead, you moron, and it's not coming back


From crack pushers to Lac' pushers and ambushers
From dealers of crack cocaine to dealers of luxury cars and those who ambush their rivals


And morticians to fortresses, case-dismisses
From funeral directors to fortified buildings and legal cases that get thrown out


Laced in riches, cake ridiculous
Rich and dripping with wealth, my money is absurd


From nickel and dimin; to trickin; them diamonds
From having very little money to lavishly spending on expensive jewelry


Vegas, places in Switzerland
I gamble and travel internationally, including to luxurious Swiss destinations


From non-blastin; to auto, I don't have to blast mine
From not using automatic weapons to having access to them, I no longer need to personally use them in my crimes


They blast mine, black nine, you flatline
They use automatic guns against me, but I have my own powerful handgun and can make them die quickly


My cash climb, buy rare art
My money keeps increasing, so I buy expensive and unique artwork


Antique pieces, Mona Lisa's, own no leases
I own ancient and valuable artifacts, including the famous Mona Lisa painting, without leasing them


Five-star restaurant eaters; don't forget who your peeps is
I dine at the most exclusive restaurants, and I don't forget who my true friends are


'Sposed to dine with you, sip that good wine with you
Some people were supposed to have dinner and drinks with me


Only if they grind with you - or slang for ya
They can only eat and drink with me if they work hard for me or sell drugs for me


Seen niggaz live, laugh, party, and die in that very same corner
I have witnessed people having fun and dying at the same place


Pretty girls glance at us, status unconceivable
Attractive women look at us, and our social status is unimaginable to some


Private planes landed out in Teterboro, weed I twirl
I land on private planes at Teterboro Airport and smoke marijuana


Once even gave me a phobia
One time, I acquired a fear or anxiety because of a situation I experienced


That I be in a spot trapped like Madame Zenobia's
That I get stuck in a situation like a popular haunted house attraction called Madame Tussauds


With this kid eyein' my Rolly, y'all
With this young man looking at my Rolex watch


There it is, QB bitch, yea, QB bitch, yea, yea, QB bitch
Ending emphasizing my hometown Queensbridge, and my superiority in general




Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: Leshan Lewis, Nasir Jones, Wyatt E. L. Coleman

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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