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Nas feat. 50 Cent & Nature Lyrics

Niggas bit off Nas shit
Other rappers copy Nas's style

Admit it, you bit it
Confess that you've copied Nas's style

You can be a ridah and ride, or a coward and hide Either way you go against me, you still gon die
You can be brave and face me, or cowardly and run, but I will defeat you either way

I got four macs, a few nines, I'm ready for beef You wanna talk, it ain't about money, then let it be brief
I am armed and prepared for any conflict, and if you're not talking about money then I don't want to hear it

I need a drop for when it's a hot, a Hummer for when it's cold An ill attorney's in my corner when these fake niggas fold
I need a convertible for warm weather and a Hummer for cold weather, and I have a good lawyer to protect me when fake people try to turn against me

The shit I kick fuck with niggas mentally, makes them wanna mention me And see me doing a quarter century in the penitentiary
My music messes with people's heads and makes them talk about me, even to the point of wishing me to go to prison for 25 years

Nastradamus predicted 50's the future, that's a fact money I run up on your workers with the mac, like where that pack money
Nas predicted that 50 Cent would be successful, and I will confront your employees with my weapon and demand to know where the drugs and money are

I'm a tell ya'll what Papi told me I got what you need, 19,5 a key I stay catching a stunt, frontin' in somethin' mean And I'll clap any nigga for the right amount of cream
I have a drug connection and will act tough in fancy cars, and I will kill someone if paid enough money

Run up on them all with the same problem solver Beat up ass, tape on the handle, trey eight revolver. What!
I will use violence to solve my problems and will carry a taped gun to do so

Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock 'Cause then we gonna run up in your spot Screamin' get the fuck on the floor, give us the raw
Our neighborhood is dangerous and if we hit rock bottom, we will rob your place for drugs and money

Aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo I'm like Sugar Shane Mosley, it ain't no beef You're staring, a ticket holder that sits in row three Next to Ron Artest and Kobe Yo I woulda went pro too, then I let them phillies slow me
I compare myself to a famous boxer and say that I have no conflict with anyone in the audience. I used to be on track to become a pro athlete but drugs slowed me down

I'm like a black man's asthma, seeking a pump Breathin' deeper when I'm creeping up Ya'll need to fuck with the tightest, I stick niggas Encephalitis leavin' whole families in silence My virus is obvious, past on to most rap fiends Un cured, ain't no vaccine
I am like a problem that black people constantly deal with, and I am always getting stronger. I am deadly and can ruin people's lives, and there's no cure for me

Last seen at the automatic teller machine, maxing out Or in the studio booth, blacking out
I was last seen withdrawing all my money from the ATM or in the studio making music

It's Con Air style, real twisted, I disappear on some Blair Witch shit Comin' back I'm rich kid Either or, you can't stop me with my feet in the door Or walk away from the street or the morgue, play your part nigga
I disappear in a twisted way, only to come back rich. No one can stop me from succeeding, whether they confront me or ignore me, so just do what you're supposed to do

I disturb niggas and white boys, with five pointed stars Tatted on they arms, pimp your moms, like I'm Magic Don Juan From Queens to Hong Kong, weed in the bong We smoke that, leave our minks on the coat rack
I shock both black and white people with my controversial ideas. I act like a pimp to people's mothers and am like a famous pimp, Magic Don Juan. I smoke weed everywhere and leave my fancy fur coat behind

Those that plot on me, nine times outta ten the nine is on me Feds search the God, but nothin' they find on me When I rap don't wait to clap applaud sooner Unless you hate a nigga like George Bush Jr., I bring war quick to you
Most people who plot against me are armed with a gun, and the police search me but find nothing. Clap (applaud) for me when I rap, unless you hate me like George Bush Jr. In that case, I will fight you quickly with war

Porsche maneuvers through the city like New York sewers Stinkin' up the air, Central Park, horse manure Rims is 22 inches, Benz suspensions 22 inch dick when I'm pimpin'
My car drives around the city quickly and recklessly, like a sewer system. It leaves a bad smell and mess on Central Park. My car has big rims and a good suspension, and I am bragging about my sexual organs

Impotent you niggas get me sick, wanna be soundin' like You knowin' my arithmetic, but we don't sound alike 50 Cent with Braveheart-ed, we ride to the grave depart us You fake niggas imitate what I started, let's go
I hate when other rappers try to sound like me, even though they don't really sound like me. I work with 50 Cent and we will stick together until death. Other rappers copy my style but they can't really create anything new

Cause then we gonna run up in your spot
If things get really bad, we will rob your place