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The 28 Greatest Nas Guest Verses Of All Time

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?


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


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


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
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