Watch Dem Niggas 歌词
| 歌曲 | Watch Dem Niggas |
| 歌手 | Nas |
| 专辑 | IT WAS WRITTEN |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Barnes, Jones | |
| They never realized, how real Nas, is so decisive | |
| It's just the likeness, of Isrealites mist, that made me write this | |
| A slight twist, of lime rhyme, be chasin down your prime time | |
| Food for thought or rather mind wine | |
| The Don Juan, features the freak shit, my thesis | |
| on how we creep quick, fuckin your wife that ain't so secret | |
| It's mandatory - see that pussy, they hand it to me | |
| I got no game, it's just some bitches understand my story | |
| There ain't no drama that my niggaz never handle for me | |
| My gator brand is Maurry, walkin through rough land before me | |
| where the snakes put a smile on they face, hopin and prayin I'm stuck | |
| Scopin they lay in the cut, weighin my luck | |
| Player haters play this in cell blocks and rock stages | |
| Winkin at some females cops with cocked gauges | |
| Really it's papers I'm addicted to, wasn't for rap then I'll be stickin you | |
| The mag inside the triple goose | |
| Face down on the floors, the routine | |
| Don't want hear nobody blow steam, just cream or it's a smoke screen | |
| Imagine that - that's why I hardly kick the braggin raps | |
| I zone, to each his own and this ghetto inhabitant | |
| Chorus: Nas and Foxy Brown (repeat 2X) | |
| Watch dem niggas that be close to you | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it's the ways | |
| [Nas] | |
| Now how can I perfect this (uhh, what) | |
| livin reckless, die for my necklace | |
| Crime infected, drivin a Lexus with a death wish | |
| Jettin, checkin my message on the speaker | |
| Boppin to Mona Lisa brown reefer, ten G's, gun and my Visa | |
| CD crankin, doin ninety on the Franklin-D-Roosevelt | |
| No seat belt, drinkin and thinkin | |
| My man caught a bad one son, niggaz is frightened | |
| Secret indictments, adds on to one seekin enlightment | |
| My Movado says seven, the God hour, that's if you follow | |
| traditions started by the school not far from the Apollo | |
| My 'Fuck Tommorrow' motto through the eyes of Pablo | |
| Escobar the desperado - word to Custom Auto | |
| Chorus: Nas and Foxy Brown | |
| Got to watch dem niggas that's close to you | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it's the ways | |
| Watch dem niggas that's close to you | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it's the ways | |
| [Nas] | |
| Some niggaz watch you (uh) see you when you think on the low | |
| Ain't hard to spot you, you swore to keep it real after you blow | |
| Three ki's, new V's, went to Anguilla with your hoe | |
| Stayed around the hood, smoothest cat, gettin the dough | |
| Them old timers, advise you to them problems that's ahead | |
| Drama with the Feds, not listenin just bobbin your head | |
| Your Roley shinin, thinkin to yourself nobody's takin mine | |
| At the same time, your hoe is gettin snatched from behind | |
| Put in the van, where's the hundred grand, script in her hand | |
| From all the ice, wouldn't you know - | |
| - you knew these niggaz all your life | |
| What made them mark you victim, you fucked up somehwere down the line | |
| now they had to target your Wisdom | |
| She took em to your place, straight to your safe | |
| You doubted it could happen sick of yappin | |
| Dump in your ride, headed to your side | |
| Puffin ganja get to your crib, can't find her | |
| Just a reminder shit and have your stash house where you crash out | |
| Coulda passed out, your coke was gone, now you assed out | |
| Dead bitches tell no lies, you should use your eyes | |
| Chorus: Nas and Foxy Brown | |
| Got to watch dem niggas that's close to you (uhh) | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do (what, hah) | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you (mmm) | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it's the ways | |
| Watch dem niggas that's close to you (uhh) | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you (uh-huh) | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it's the ways | |
| (uhh) |
| zuo ci : Barnes, Jones | |
| They never realized, how real Nas, is so decisive | |
| It' s just the likeness, of Isrealites mist, that made me write this | |
| A slight twist, of lime rhyme, be chasin down your prime time | |
| Food for thought or rather mind wine | |
| The Don Juan, features the freak shit, my thesis | |
| on how we creep quick, fuckin your wife that ain' t so secret | |
| It' s mandatory see that pussy, they hand it to me | |
| I got no game, it' s just some bitches understand my story | |
| There ain' t no drama that my niggaz never handle for me | |
| My gator brand is Maurry, walkin through rough land before me | |
| where the snakes put a smile on they face, hopin and prayin I' m stuck | |
| Scopin they lay in the cut, weighin my luck | |
| Player haters play this in cell blocks and rock stages | |
| Winkin at some females cops with cocked gauges | |
| Really it' s papers I' m addicted to, wasn' t for rap then I' ll be stickin you | |
| The mag inside the triple goose | |
| Face down on the floors, the routine | |
| Don' t want hear nobody blow steam, just cream or it' s a smoke screen | |
| Imagine that that' s why I hardly kick the braggin raps | |
| I zone, to each his own and this ghetto inhabitant | |
| Chorus: Nas and Foxy Brown repeat 2X | |
| Watch dem niggas that be close to you | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it' s the ways | |
| Nas | |
| Now how can I perfect this uhh, what | |
| livin reckless, die for my necklace | |
| Crime infected, drivin a Lexus with a death wish | |
| Jettin, checkin my message on the speaker | |
| Boppin to Mona Lisa brown reefer, ten G' s, gun and my Visa | |
| CD crankin, doin ninety on the FranklinDRoosevelt | |
| No seat belt, drinkin and thinkin | |
| My man caught a bad one son, niggaz is frightened | |
| Secret indictments, adds on to one seekin enlightment | |
| My Movado says seven, the God hour, that' s if you follow | |
| traditions started by the school not far from the Apollo | |
| My ' Fuck Tommorrow' motto through the eyes of Pablo | |
| Escobar the desperado word to Custom Auto | |
| Chorus: Nas and Foxy Brown | |
| Got to watch dem niggas that' s close to you | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it' s the ways | |
| Watch dem niggas that' s close to you | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it' s the ways | |
| Nas | |
| Some niggaz watch you uh see you when you think on the low | |
| Ain' t hard to spot you, you swore to keep it real after you blow | |
| Three ki' s, new V' s, went to Anguilla with your hoe | |
| Stayed around the hood, smoothest cat, gettin the dough | |
| Them old timers, advise you to them problems that' s ahead | |
| Drama with the Feds, not listenin just bobbin your head | |
| Your Roley shinin, thinkin to yourself nobody' s takin mine | |
| At the same time, your hoe is gettin snatched from behind | |
| Put in the van, where' s the hundred grand, script in her hand | |
| From all the ice, wouldn' t you know | |
| you knew these niggaz all your life | |
| What made them mark you victim, you fucked up somehwere down the line | |
| now they had to target your Wisdom | |
| She took em to your place, straight to your safe | |
| You doubted it could happen sick of yappin | |
| Dump in your ride, headed to your side | |
| Puffin ganja get to your crib, can' t find her | |
| Just a reminder shit and have your stash house where you crash out | |
| Coulda passed out, your coke was gone, now you assed out | |
| Dead bitches tell no lies, you should use your eyes | |
| Chorus: Nas and Foxy Brown | |
| Got to watch dem niggas that' s close to you uhh | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do what, hah | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you mmm | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it' s the ways | |
| Watch dem niggas that' s close to you uhh | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you uhhuh | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it' s the ways | |
| uhh |
| zuò cí : Barnes, Jones | |
| They never realized, how real Nas, is so decisive | |
| It' s just the likeness, of Isrealites mist, that made me write this | |
| A slight twist, of lime rhyme, be chasin down your prime time | |
| Food for thought or rather mind wine | |
| The Don Juan, features the freak shit, my thesis | |
| on how we creep quick, fuckin your wife that ain' t so secret | |
| It' s mandatory see that pussy, they hand it to me | |
| I got no game, it' s just some bitches understand my story | |
| There ain' t no drama that my niggaz never handle for me | |
| My gator brand is Maurry, walkin through rough land before me | |
| where the snakes put a smile on they face, hopin and prayin I' m stuck | |
| Scopin they lay in the cut, weighin my luck | |
| Player haters play this in cell blocks and rock stages | |
| Winkin at some females cops with cocked gauges | |
| Really it' s papers I' m addicted to, wasn' t for rap then I' ll be stickin you | |
| The mag inside the triple goose | |
| Face down on the floors, the routine | |
| Don' t want hear nobody blow steam, just cream or it' s a smoke screen | |
| Imagine that that' s why I hardly kick the braggin raps | |
| I zone, to each his own and this ghetto inhabitant | |
| Chorus: Nas and Foxy Brown repeat 2X | |
| Watch dem niggas that be close to you | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it' s the ways | |
| Nas | |
| Now how can I perfect this uhh, what | |
| livin reckless, die for my necklace | |
| Crime infected, drivin a Lexus with a death wish | |
| Jettin, checkin my message on the speaker | |
| Boppin to Mona Lisa brown reefer, ten G' s, gun and my Visa | |
| CD crankin, doin ninety on the FranklinDRoosevelt | |
| No seat belt, drinkin and thinkin | |
| My man caught a bad one son, niggaz is frightened | |
| Secret indictments, adds on to one seekin enlightment | |
| My Movado says seven, the God hour, that' s if you follow | |
| traditions started by the school not far from the Apollo | |
| My ' Fuck Tommorrow' motto through the eyes of Pablo | |
| Escobar the desperado word to Custom Auto | |
| Chorus: Nas and Foxy Brown | |
| Got to watch dem niggas that' s close to you | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it' s the ways | |
| Watch dem niggas that' s close to you | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it' s the ways | |
| Nas | |
| Some niggaz watch you uh see you when you think on the low | |
| Ain' t hard to spot you, you swore to keep it real after you blow | |
| Three ki' s, new V' s, went to Anguilla with your hoe | |
| Stayed around the hood, smoothest cat, gettin the dough | |
| Them old timers, advise you to them problems that' s ahead | |
| Drama with the Feds, not listenin just bobbin your head | |
| Your Roley shinin, thinkin to yourself nobody' s takin mine | |
| At the same time, your hoe is gettin snatched from behind | |
| Put in the van, where' s the hundred grand, script in her hand | |
| From all the ice, wouldn' t you know | |
| you knew these niggaz all your life | |
| What made them mark you victim, you fucked up somehwere down the line | |
| now they had to target your Wisdom | |
| She took em to your place, straight to your safe | |
| You doubted it could happen sick of yappin | |
| Dump in your ride, headed to your side | |
| Puffin ganja get to your crib, can' t find her | |
| Just a reminder shit and have your stash house where you crash out | |
| Coulda passed out, your coke was gone, now you assed out | |
| Dead bitches tell no lies, you should use your eyes | |
| Chorus: Nas and Foxy Brown | |
| Got to watch dem niggas that' s close to you uhh | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do what, hah | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you mmm | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it' s the ways | |
| Watch dem niggas that' s close to you uhh | |
| And make sure they do what they supposed to do | |
| Cause you know they be thinkin about smokin you uhhuh | |
| Never personal, nowadays, it' s the ways | |
| uhh |
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