Yea, hehe. Don Quan

Original God's Son Nas. That nigga Cass rules. Whattup baby



[Chorus: Quan]

Y'all niggaz is crazy. (To think) Y'all niggaz can't fade me

(Trick these) From the bottom to the top, from the booth to the block

Anyway I got to get it, I'm givin it all I got

Y'all haters can't hold me. (No Way) And y'all don't want to zone me

(Want it your way) So when I get, I'm gon' get it, in my life how I live it

and whips that I be whippin, smokin on the exquisite



[Nas]

In the crib, two bricks of coke, liquor and dope

Pretty Hawaian bitches who eat choch and deep throat

Same niggaz that get down, remember them

California style, yeah I went back again

But much wiser, 'cause these guys are

Leave you up shits creek and won't lose sleep

So while we pack the heat, I got the heckler and koch

My man got the dot, five-oh block

It's like the movies shots as niggaz watch

But the American version

East coast, west coast as we connect these curtains

'Cause we ain't scared to buck, step on the Timbs and Chuck's

Is gonna happen, gun clappin, remember that

Now we on the soothern part of the map

Houston, party of the year, everybody there

Texas, no guestlist, only real players allowed

Me and my dudes make out rounds *Yall must be crazy*



[Chorus: Quan]



[Quan]

VA game spittin, platinum grill grinnin

Chrome rims spinnin, with wood grain glistenin

Any amount we sippin, passion for thugs livin

Free, fresh and out of prison

Flexin that new edition

Good grain gettin, shit and lovin the feelin

Bobby Womack singin, My wrist and rings gleaming

Hat cocked duce, puffin the quarter loosely

Poppin the bottle and tippin the fifth of that to goosey

Shinnin for Swill and Halle, smokin for Lil' Shawney

Still reppin Bad Newz, and all my soldiers fallen

Enjoy some better days, dispute burdens I carry

See cousin hookin money, for God momma terry

Floss every chance I get, spread love freely

Still spittin this gangsta shit, 'cause the streets need me

Still got that mack milly, for niggaz actin silly

still pimpin gangsta pretty, reppin the 7 cities



[Chorus: Quan]



[Cassidy]

Yeah, I pray every day for a better life

I say it's gon' get better but it's like I'm never right

Make it better Christ, I'm on both of my knees

There's no hope, that why I'm smokin the trees

Damn, all for the cheese, I lost both of my mans

That's why theres toasters in both of my hands

Damn, and I'll sell coke and birds 'fore I go to work

I go to the Range more than I go to church

My whole mentality twisted, but this reality isn't it

I ain't tryin to be fatality listed

And yo bredrin, gettin dough is like goin to heaven

And goin to jail, like goin to hell

But before I go in the grave, I'll go in the cell

Just send my son mo' dough in the mail

Oh well, but I got god on my side so I'm beatin the case

This life crazy but I'm keepin the faith



[Chorus: Quan]