There’s a certain magic to a rapper who can hop on someone else’s track and absolutely murder their verse, leaving the listener in awe and desperate for more.
For Nas, that magic has been a constant throughout his career, with the Queensbridge legend consistently delivering some of the coldest guest verses in the game.
From his unforgettable debut on “Live at the Barbeque” in ’91 to the present day, Nas has proven time and time again that he is one of the most exciting feature artists of all time, bringing his signature style and lyrical prowess to a wide range of collaborations.
In this article, we’ll be taking a deep dive into the 28 greatest Nas guest verses of all time, showcasing the moments when he truly stole the show and cemented his legacy as one of the all-time greats.
“Live at the Barbeque”
Album: July 23, 1991
Released: Breaking Atoms
Other rappers on the track: Large Professor, Joe Fatal, Akinyele
Street's disciple, my raps are trifle I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle Stampede the stage, I leave the microphone split Play Mr. Tuffy while I'm on some Pretty Tone shit Verbal assassin, my architect pleases When I was 12, I went to Hell for snuffin' Jesus Nasty Nas is a rebel to America Police murderer, I'm causin' hysteria My troops roll up with a strange force I was trapped in a cage and let out by the Main Source Swimmin' in women like a lifeguard Put on a bulletproof, ni**a, I strike hard Kidnap the president's wife without a plan And hangin' ni**as like the Ku Klux Klan I melt mics 'til the soundwave's over Before steppin' to me, you'd rather step to Jehovah Slammin' MC's on cement 'Cause verbally, I'm iller than a AIDS patient I move swift and uplift your mind Shoot the gift when I riff and rhyme Rappin' sniper, speakin' real words My thoughts react like Steven Spielberg's Poetry attacks, paragraphs punch hard My brain is insane, I'm out to lunch, God Science is dropped, my raps are toxic My voice box locks and excels like a rocket
“Back to the Grill”
Album: Return of the Product
Released: August 25, 1992
Other rappers on the track: MC Serch, Chubb Rock, Red Hot Lover Tone
Finesser, keep a Tec-9 in my dresser Lyrical professor, keep ya under pressure Mind like a computer, the inserter Paragraphs of murder, the nightclub flirter This is Nas, kid, you know how it runs I'm wavin' automatic guns at nuns Stickin' up the preachers in the church, I'm a stoned crook Serial killer, who works by the phone book For you, I got a lot to shoot and songs to hear My rhymes are hotter than a prostitute with gonorrhea On the mic, I let vocabulary spill (It's like that, y'all!) That, y'all, kick 'em in the grill!
“Eye for a Eye (Your Beef is Mines)”
Album: The Infamous
Released: April 25, 1995
Other rappers on the track: Prodigy, Havoc, Raekwon
A drug dealer's dream: Stash C.R.E.A.M., keys on a triple beam 500 SL green, '95 nickle gleam Condominium, thug dressed like a gentleman Tailor-made ostrich, Chanel for my woman friend Murderin', numbers on your head while I'm burglarin' Shank is servin' 'em What's up to all my ni**as swervin' in New York metropolis The 'Bridge brings apocalypse Shoot at the clouds, feels like the Holy Beast is watchin' us Mad man, my sanity is goin' like a hourglass Gun inside my bad hand I sliced tryin' to bag grams I got hoes that used to milk you, ni**as who could've killed you Is down with my ill crew of psychos Nas Escobar movin' on your weak production Pumpin' corruption in the third world, we just bustin'
“Verbal Intercourse”
Album: Only Built 4 Cuban Linx…
Released: August 1, 1995
Other rappers on the track: Raekwon, Ghostface Killah
Through the lights, cameras, and action, glamor, glitters, and gold I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe When I'm deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast To conquer peace, leaving savages to roam in the streets Live on the run, police paying me to give in my gun Trick my wisdom with the system that imprisoned my son Smoke a gold leaf, I hold heat nonchalantly I'm raunchy, but things I do is real, it never haunts me, while Funny style ni**as roll in the pile Rooster-heads profile on the bus to Rikers Isle Holding weed inside they pussy with they minds on the pretty things in life Props is a true thug's wife It's like a cycle, ni**as come home, some'll go in Do a bullet, come back, do the same shit again From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable Guns salute life rapidly, that's the ritual
“Mo Money, Mo Murder Homicide”
Album: Doe or Die
Released: October 10, 1995
Other rappers on the track: AZ
Yo, in a mahogany, black scenery That was lightnin' and rain drops I'm tied up in a basement cocaine spot like Bangkok I'm blindfold, Vietnam type mind control, this torture His accent sounds like the rarest culture Askin' me, my atrophy stabbin' me gradually Says his attribute was satanic, masonic, ironic I felt reminded of my fast life ventures and winters Blinded 'til the flashlight enters
“Fast Life”
Album: 4,5,6
Released: November 14, 1995
Other rappers on the track: Kool G Rap
Yo, I got guns from Italy, smoke trees considerably Mid-state and Green, it seems, is where all my ni**as be The ghetto misery - shootouts and liquor stores A perpendicular angle of the clout war Police searchin' up my Lexo, but who's petro? My tech blows straight off the roof and tests yo' respect, though But dough don't respect me, it got me handcuffed The rough life, I just be up nights, breathin' with scuffed Nike's Pour my beers for my peoples under the stairs These years I got they names in my swears Poppin' Cristal like it's my first child, lickin' shots Holiday style Rockin' Steele sweaters, Wallabee down Twenty-four carats, countin' cabbage like the Arabs The marriage of me and the mic is just like magic Elegant performance, bubble Lex full insurance Guzzlin' Guinness, shootin', catchin' cases concurrent It's Nas, seven hundred wives, King Solomon size We on the rise, me and G - ghetto wise guys The Luciano, Frankie Yale, Bugsy Siegel Green papers with eagles from a trade that's illegal
“Give It Up Fast”
Album: Hell on Earth
Released: November 19, 1996
Other rappers on the track: Prodigy, Havoc, Big Noyd
Got out the airport, the Mobb picked me up in the truck Jewelry chunky like fuck, I ain't scared to get stuck So what's the deal, Papi? You heard the Feds almost got me? I had the Cuban posse all up in my room and lobby Negotiating like Illuminati, network with catch-a-body experts In retrospect to the foul connect When I lost, but that then was my fault Now it's time to floss, eye for a eye, what's mine is yours I need a suite with the flowers complimentary at Trump Towers Sit at the table, we can build for hours On getting rich, it's a cinch, take a glimpse "The World Is Yours" written all over the blimps Here's a toast to my foes, it's like a whole new beginning With Quaaludes and cream and loads of women rocking linen I got a plan to blow to Hiroshima, Japan Moving ni**as out the hood and just divide it with fam' Aiyo, the bitches, like Gee Money said to his man Will ride the dick like a horse with the cowboy brand
“How Ya Livin'”
Album: Pieces of a Man
Released: April 7, 1998
Other rappers on the track: AZ
Back-to-back Benzes, with the Wild Gremlins Gaultier style lenses, talons in the .40 cal', this is life now Let me find out you want the lifestyle of mine, no pal of mine Runnin' with goons with knife wounds from jail time Got the squad lookin' like tycoon, we all shine While we polly with the flyest mommy on 25th street Watch how honey in the Lex do it I'm in the 6V with the 12 next to it You wanna stick me? Then put ya best to it or die, black We see you in Allah Kingdom if you try that Check the fly cat, 2 point 5, multiply that Cash rules, on my arm I flash jewels and tattoos You can look but don't touch, we bad news
“John Blaze”
Album: Don Cartagena
Released: September 1, 1998
Other rappers on the track: Fat Joe, Big Pun, Jadakiss, Raekwon
My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence Murder game, I leave no evidence, credentials Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal He'd tell you how I used to pack a No. 2 pencil Stabbin' students, grabbin' teachers, Catholics, preachers In the school staircase, cuttin' class, passin' my reefer In my own class, operation return, they tried to say I was incompetent, not able to learn The tables turned now, got my own label I earned Like that ni**a said in Dead Presidents, "Money to burn" Queensbridge, pay homage respect, Nas is a vet Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes Ni**as is this and that, I'm just the best Puttin' all violence to rest Between Latin Kings and blood, los sangres, blood in Spanish So many thugs vanish, unite the system To fight with inner street wisdom to help teach in prison
“Grand Finale”
Album: Belly Soundtrack
Released: October 27, 1998
Other rappers on the track: DMX, Ja Rule, Method Man
Hot corners, cops with warrants, every block is boring Friday night, getting bent, liquor pouring My dog not even home a month yet And blazed a girl in the stomach He robbing ni**as who pumping Little Blood got popped by the group home cat Everybody nervous in the hood, pulling they gats Fiend yelling out, "Who got those?" Go and see, shorty snot-nosed He don't floss, but he got dough Thug faces, fugitives running from court cases Slugs shooting past for the love of drug paper Queens cap peelers, soldiers, drug dealers And God will throw a beam of lightning down 'cause he feel us May the next one strike me down if I'm not the realest The mayor wanna call the S.W.A.T. team to come and kill us But, dogs are friends If one see the morgue, one will live get revenge And we ride 'til the end Bravehearts blow the lye with Henn' And still rise to collide with live men My man got three six-to-eighteens, and only five in The belly of the beast Didn't wanna hear the shit I tried to tell him on the streets It's irrelevant, the beast love to eat black meat It got us ni**as from the hood hanging off its teeth We slinging to eat, bringing the heat Bullet holes, razor scars, it's the pain in the street, huh
“It’s Mine”
Album: Murda Muzik
Released: August 17, 1999
Other rappers on the track: Prodigy, Havoc
Silk shirts on my chest show what a flirt Halle Berry blew a kiss at the Barbara Streisand concert Silk pants colored pink, gators match gangster musical thing And I'll front like my doo doo don't stink Instinct like Cuba Gooding steppin' out the latest toy Hazard lights blinkin', gators hit the floor Everybody watch the red carpet entrance, cameras flashin' Just to think, that was yesterday's action 'Cause today goes either way - we came a long way From hallway steps and hand-me-down shit Fuck my foes, I seen the other side, NexTel cell roam Call the chopper phone, heliport in my home Quincy Jones posters Wake up, guns under my pillow, I can't talk around chauffeurs Shit is better than a novel, autobiographic Spit it on tracks, it becomes classic Start some, make my heart pump, spark one, I'm God son NAStradamus, last one to blast one when the NARC's come Know how to leave anything in thirty seconds When you feel the heat, comin' and flee with the murder weapon I'll release one, shot you deceased, learn your lesson Your flesh turn to maggots, bastards, you past it Cremate your flesh to ashes You don't need a suit, no wake, no funeral, and no casket
“Let My Ni**as Live”
Album: The W
Released: November 21, 2000
Other rappers on the track: Raekwon, Inspectah Deck
I scream at the mirror, curse, askin God, "Why me?" Run in the black church, gun in my hand, y'all try me I'm God's son, son of man, son of Marcus Garvey Rastafari irie, Haile Selassie Police'll try to break us, but the streets raised us It takes more than metal bars, we destined for ours I hear murder plans from dopefiends, with elephant hands Snots in they nostril, the blocks is hostile There's no pots to piss in, Glocks is spittin Rocks cookin underground bodies stiffin, cops lookin bird shit Drop on the window pane, the oxygen is cocaine It drove lots of men to die with no name I been on boats, nut down throats, pee on bitches who famous Pretty dick, puttin stitches in they anus I'm the animal that Hugh Hefner created The only ni**a Sade dated, the most hated, Nas, ni**a
“Too Hot”
Album: Guess Who’s Back?
Released: May 21, 2002
Other rappers on the track: 50 Cent, Nature
I disturb ni**as 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 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 ni**a like George Bush Jr., I bring war quick to you 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' Impotent you ni**as 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 ni**as imitate what I started, let's go
“In Between Us”
Album: The Fix
Released: August 6, 2002
Other rappers on the track: Scarface
Circumstances are like my first fight I lost It was swinging, my arms bugging, adrenaline pumping Oh shit, this little ni**a's thugging I mean, I was thirteen, I was nursing a knot on my face But chose another time and a place That I would avenge my last fight cuz the same shit Ain't gonna happen that just happened last night Knuckle game changed quicker than lightning Hit 'em or slice 'em Either stick 'em or blast pipes, it's the fastlife I try to give another ni**a advice, shoot dice Do plenty of shit cause this life, how many you get? How many ni**as do you know get two? Besides a ni**a who snitch to skip a life-bid, be one a' your crew I don't respect killers, I respect O.G. knowledge Codes of the streets got new rules, but no guidance Lessons, detrimental to a young disciple Focus, take care of your brothers, ni**as do as I do Keep your enemies close, where they can see you It's not your enemy who get you It's always your own people
“We Major”
Album: Late Registration
Released: August 30, 2005
Other rappers on the track: Kanye West, Really Doe
I heard the beat and I ain't know what to write First line—should it be about the hoes or the ice? Four-fours or Black Christ? Both flows'd be nice Rap about big paper or the black man plight At the studio console, asked my man to the right "What this verse sound like? Should I freestyle or write? He said, "Nas, what the fans want is Illmatic, still" Looked at the pad and pencil, and jotted what I feel Been like twelve years since a ni**a first signed Now, I'm a free agent, and I'm thinking it's time To build my very own Motown 'Cause rappers be deprived of executive nine-to-fives And it hurts to see these companies be stealing the life And I love to give my blood, sweat and tears to the mic So y'all copped the LPs and y'all fiends got dealt I'm Jesse Jackson on the balcony when King got killed I survived the livest ni**as around Lasted longer than more than half of you clowns Look, I used to cook before I had the game took Either way, my change came like Sam Cooke
“Why You Hate the Game”
Album: Doctor’s Advocate
Released: November 14, 2006
Other rappers on the track: The Game
Felon, Vice behind me on the intersection Sex and drugs my anthology on perfection Dress superb, admired by conspirists Who wanna try me but ain't high enough to 4-5 me up Child of the 80s, y'all ni**as is lazy Complainin' 'bout labor pains ni**a show me the baby And my ni**a Game light another L, pass the bottle Pro-black I don't pick cotton out a aspirin bottle Yeah I learned my lessons and heard y'all snitchin' Witnessin' you rockin wit' narcs confirmed my suspicion Green fatigues on, my ni**as I'll bleed for 'em I can show 'em the water but can't make 'em drink it And I can show them my fortunes but can't force 'em think rich And still I don't abort 'em when and if they sink quick Ignore the ignorance I rep the brilliance of Queensbridge And pray the feds let Murder Inc. live
“I Want You” (Remix)
Album: Street Love
Released: October 23, 2006
Other rappers on the track: Andre 3000
Yeah, Nas be in the crib, low, strip-pole-ing it Cold Guinness, bitter taste; slim waist, I'm gon' hit it We low-key, baby, like a baritone Apple computer, email me to come scoop you Run through you, undo your bra, give me medulla, ah You cute as a movie star in Sin City, Hennessy, my love slave Loving is pimping, no rest hāve with none of 'em I'll leave every one of 'em, you just say it Just leave it where it is, he ain't aware Let sleeping dogs lie, but keep a sharp eye on him 'Cause I'm the wrong guy, don't wanna put this four-five on him Let's get it on, ma, you got my nose wide open You already locked down and rocked down, but so delicious If he get suspicious, bring up his old mistress I ain't dry-snitching But why should you be feeling bad 'cause I be killing that, huh?
“Success”
Album: American Gangster
Released: November 6, 2007
Other rappers on the track: Jay-Z
Success, McLaren, women staring My villain appearance Sacred blood of a king and my vein ain't spilling Ghetto Othello, Sugar Hill Romello Camaro driven, I climax from paper Then ask: "Why is life worth living?" Is it to hunt for the shit that you want? To receive's great, but I lust giving The best jewelers wanna make my things I make Jacob shit on Lorraine just to make me a chain Ni**as mentioned on One Love Came home to the paper in hand Ain't gotta brag about the Feds, young man Old cribs I sold, y'all drive by like monuments Google Earth Nas; I got flats in other continents Worst enemies wanna be my best friends Best friends wanna be enemies like that's what's in But I don't give a fuck, walk inside the lion's den Take everybody's chips, 'bout to cash them in Up your catalog, dog, mine's worth too much Like Mike Jacks ATV pub, Mottola can't touch Let this bitch breathe!
“My President”
Album: The Recession
Released: September 2, 2008
Other rappers on the track: Young Jeezy
Our history, Black history No president ever did shit for me Had to hit the streets, had to flip some kis So a ni**a won't go broke Then they put us in jail, now a ni**a can't go vote So I spend dough on these hoes strippin' She ain't a politician, honey's a pole-itician My president is Black, Rose golden charms Twenty-two inch rims like Hulk Hogan's arms When thousands of peoples is riled up to see you That can arouse your ego, we've got mouths to feed, so Gotta stay true to who you are and where you came from 'Cause at the top will be the same place you hang from No matter how big you can ever be For whatever fee or publicity, never lose your integrity For years there's been some prize horses in this stable Just two albums in, I'm the realest ni**a on this label Mr. Black President, yo, Obama for real They gotta put your face on the 5,000 dollar bill
“Letter to the King”
Album: LAX
Released: August 26, 2008
Other rappers on the track: The Game
Standin' at the pew, panaramic view of the seatin' and greetin' I've been meanin' to do me some letter readin' To the King, he forever breathin', your message is never leavin' Some of your homies phonies, I should've said it when I see them Them sleazy bastards, some greedy pastors, jerks Should never be allowed at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta So people be patient, I know this ghetto grammar But I'm a street dude, normally I just speak rude Martin Luther, the martyr, the trooper, hate killed him Nobel Peace Prize winner, they duplicate your feelin' As a kid I ain't relate really I would say your dream speech jokingly, 'til your words awoke in me First I thought you were passive, soft one who ass kissed I was young but honest, I was feelin' Muhammad I ain't even know the strength you had to have to march You was more than just talk, you the first real Braveheart We miss you Feel like King be in me sometimes
“Usual Suspects”
Album: Deeper Than Rap
Released: April 21, 2009
Other rappers on the track: Rick Ross
And still my talent is yet to be challenged Had no jet with my own pilot, no blastin' off with Flex or DJ Khaled My mom stressin' college But my crude sense of logic did allude to my empty wallet Try spittin' on a green tinted Accord Which could mean a sentence up North, where the homie was But back then dough was like a whore that Goldie love, it didn't exist And Officer Foldy Cuffs was after my wrists Was not Beverly Hills where we chilled Imagine this, the Nazareth had to get from rags to rich I used to stand on rooftops with two Glocks Figurin', how do I turn my Timberlands to Crocs? Now reptiles was left out, I'm 'bout a watch, what is you thinkin'? Murk you, plus the muscle that you bringin' is nothing to me If you thuggin' or fake and shanked on Cuban, shout out my Ricans Dealt with all of you gangstas from the roughest Jamiacans and Haitians
“Rich & Black”
Album: Shaolin vs. Wu-Tang
Released: March 8, 2011
Other rappers on the track: Raekwon
Rare ni**a, I'm a wonder Your best success is my worst blunder Feds tap the number Jewelry Jacqueline Onassis could appreciate Weed to alleviate the pain Eddie King, Richard Pryor pinky ring Watch your conduct, ni**a Throw parties for my ni**as that’s livin', you guessed it Models, y'all keep 'em if they anorexic Love 'em but can’t trust 'em, hate 'em but won’t bust 'em Cakin' in savings, spendin', wastin', it's like a custom Tats are hieroglyphics, lipstick on the collar I got more to lose than you do, but I’m a rider When did the rules change? Y’all livin' trendy on pennies Meetin' deadlines with ease, no game You fire, I'm butane Gator Timbs, ostrich belts These be the times that I surprise myself My ni**as lookin' like black crows at packed shows The Don voice stay pristine like I'm still seventeen
“Ghetto Dreams”
Album: The Dreamer/The Believer
Released: July 6, 2011
Other rappers on the track: Common
I notice all my flaws when it comes to writing rhymes Subject matter be changing too quickly at times So I keep it strictly 'bout dimes and stick to the story Call me a pro in the pussy category Had explicit experiences I shouldn't mention For me, getting women turned from sport to addiction Powerful women playing the roles of submission Lawyers on leashes, congresswomen inflictin' Pain onto my game, wanted and I'm sadistic They liked it, they dyked it, devices twisted 'til I get a nice chick, to get me on some nice shit Crib raising kids, Labrador behind the white fence But I'm still single, looking for Cleopatra African Queen, yo look at me, I'm a bachelor Y'all ni**as in trouble, keep your girls behind closed doors Cross your fingers, be happy I haven't chose yours She love glamour, bought her Vera Wang sandals Valentino bags is my etiquette, my manors Half hood half class, photographers' cameras Caught us out there, the spotlight, hope she can handle this She can join me, red carpet at my next non-profit Events having sponsored by some alcohol product Jumping out a Bentley with some fresh red bottoms You live your dream with me when you were just in the projects
“Triple Beam Dreams”
Album: Rich Forever
Released: January 6, 2012
Other rappers on the track: Rick Ross
A project minded individual, criminal tactics Us black kids born with birth defects, we hyperactive Mentally sex-crazed, dysfunctional, they describe us They liars, at the end of the day, we're fuckin' survivors I remember watchin' Scarface the first time Look at that big house, that Porsche paid for by crime How could I sell this poison to my peoples, in my mind? They dumb and destroy themselves is how I rationalize In the bastardized nation, Magnum .45 carryin' Where I'm from ain't far from Washington Heights to cop Aryan A rookie boy, the cookie didn't make no profit A stranger to the block, I damn near had to make them cop it It only took a fiend to taste it once to say it's garbage I brought it back to papi, ain't tryna take no losses He focuses on my emotionless young dealer face, then pauses He gives me powder, he has faith in Nas' ambitions to distribute coke Had addictions to gold chains, Mercedes Benz hopes, but I'm again broke This shit ain't cut for me, other dealers, they up their orders Barely at 62s, they already up to quarters They out there every day, some true hustlers for you I'm at it half way, none of my customers are loyal Picturin' pipin' out the seats of a Pathfinder Powerful pursuit for pussy, cash, to flash diamonds My junior high school class, wish I stayed there Illegal entrepreneur, I got my grades there Blamin' society, mad, it wasn't made fair I would be Ivy League if America played fair Poor excuse, and so I was Throwin' rocks at the pen, just for the love Before the evil, the secret life of G's You seein' me blurry, triple beam dreams
“Hip Hop”
Album: Kiss the Ring
Released: August 21, 2012
Other rappers on the track: Scarface
And if— And if— And if— And if I cry two tears for her That would be the most that I can give to her I am Joseph, Darryl, Jason, Dr. Dre, O'Shea And a host of those who passed away Today, I'm Drake, I'm Wayne, 2 Chainz You say you want to rap—to this bitch, you must commit Then you're a slave to your grave, you won't get out, you cannot quit She menstruates weekly, her Vibe covers keep you warm But the source to her heart is love—word up, right on You know how girls are, she love when you licking on her WorldStar Kissing on her belly, trick on her at Onyx Confused fans think that she illuminates demonic But she's the object of my affections, God's essence, God bless her She bought me Bentleys, Breitlings Made some friends resent me for writing about my life They thought I should have stayed quiet She took me to places I would've never saw without her And she took me from my girl powder I doubt I'll ever be the same, ugh, hallowed be Thy name Give me strength so I don't do this dame like Orenthal James Brad warned me while driving this auburn Ferrari Never follow in her games, I fuck around and I'll be sorry But I tried her, used to ride her—for dollars, not for fame She slowed me down and had me guzzling on cups of lean She's a middle-aged cougar, showing young'uns the dream Noticed she wasn't breathing for a second Then, I screamed, "She's dead!" And everybody took it out on Nasty I was just looking out for my music family Wasn't trying to claim her to myself, she's yours You can have her—she's a motherfucking whore I fuck hip-hop
“Outro”
Album: Tha Carter IV
Released: August 29, 2011
Other rappers on the track: Bun B, Shyne, Busta Rhymes
Look who crept in, crept-crept in Look-look who crept in, look-look who L-l-l-look who crept in with automatic weapons Reppin' QB 'til the death of him That ni**a that inspired lyrical tyrants Like Kanye West and Em Track record, goes back to the Essence Smack adolescents who ask who the best is I'm nasty like gas from a fat man's intestines I pass it, you gaspin' for breath and you die fast Gut 'em like a gastric bypass But ya Nas advocates actors seem To get typecast in the same role Since 16 I ain't grow a day old yet my brain grow Cocaine white Range Rov' Tats on my body like an art exhibit I did real good for a project ni**a Was once a Bacardi sipper Now it's Chandon, fat blunts in the car with strippers Guns in compartments hidden I was real young, little youth, a novice ni**a Blessings, bowed down, respected Chowed down, now my food's digested Pow pow, with my shooters are Techs That'll bust louder than the noise that I just spit Let's get one thing straight That my crown ain't for testing, testing Chop heads off like King Henry the Eighth Guillotine to your neck, bitch I'm a king in this thing, don't be dumb Been in this shit since '91 Ni**as can't fuck with the style I use Your fate is sealed, no Heidi Klum Calm now, was a wildin' dude Studied Taoism and made power moves Watched Wild Planet, seen lions devour food You can say that's how I move A monster ni**a, and I don't really like doing songs with ni**as But yo, my ni**a Wayne Let them ni**as hate, 'cause like my ni**a Drake say "We ain't got time to respond to ni**as"
“Nas Album Done”
Album: Major Key
Released: July 29, 2016
Other rappers on the track: N/A
A divine leader, shine brighter, bonita mami meeter Line sniffer, never, poetic rhyme writer, chiefer Ebony empress getter Celebrity Apprentice a devil show, big up to Africa, Mexico Hennessy, margarita, venison eater So dear, spread 'em here, don't be actin' innocent either Dome me, relax me, it's only to the nasty I'm just a phony assassin, a lot of ni**as owe me, I'ma tax 'em A lot of sisters hold me to somethin' holy and Catholic ‘Cause the rosary and gold flashy Just an attachment and accessory to my dress code Now everywhere all I see is Pablo, Esco Last time I checked I was still breathin', my neck was still freezin' Now everybody got an Escobar Season To every baby on the album cover existin' This trend I was settin', it came to fruition I'm assistin' to push the culture forward To all my ghost supporters, go support us Like a local Black-owned grocery store ‘Cause in the hood shit ain't passed down through blood It's a dub on that, we get government aid Spend it at they stores, puttin' they kids through college We need balance so we can lease and own deeds in our projects So I'm askin' Gs to go in their pockets The racial economic inequality, let's try to solve it
“Echo”
Album: Poison
Released: November 2, 2018
Other rappers on the track: N/A
Throwin' piss out the window at police Chasin' ni**as with warrants There was never no peace Judy's ass was enormous I was fresh indeed, think about her sexually Knew a bunch of Radio Raheems, rest in peace Four finger rings, big as brass knuckles Haters walk by, try to stab you if they hug you Lady on the fourth floor hollering every evening 'Til she planned up, wasn't having it that evening He was beating her, she ain't have it that evening One shot to the neck and the jugular, now he bleeding She beat the case, but damn the kid suffer I'm dating her daughter, but I'm having visions of her mother Project nights, no project lights Hopin' a friend don't try to rob my mom at night She work hard to bring it to the table Channel U before we had cable Campbell's soup before I had sushi Viker shoe before I had the Gucci 40 deuce for the karate movie Out of sync mouth movin' movie Sent to the store for a loosie Came a long way, now the same ones salute me Haters say it must be nice, I say it must be hate I don't like that line, that shit straight fake Yeah, I'm talkin' the '80s, not the '90s stuff Time was real in Jamaica Queens, Ronnie Bumps Queensbridge kings and all that Rowdy white boys with baseball bats Italians and greeks on Ditmars Steinway Street, all the slick cars
