Got Yourself a Gun [yea yea yea]
Got Yourself a Gun

Yo im living in this behind enemy lines
[Chorus]
So i got mine, hope ya got yourself a gun
You from the hood, hope ya got yourself a gun
You want beef, hope ya got yourself a gun
And when i see you ima take what i want so,
you try to front, hope ya got yourself a gun
You Ain't real, hope ya got yourself a gun

Mah first album has no famous guest appearances
the outcome, im crowned the best lyricist
Many years on this professional level
what would you question is better
The World is still mine
tattoos, real reguards son of a across the belly
The Boss of rap he saw me and belly thoughts like that
they take it back to africa, i did it with baby
me and tupac were soldiers of the same struggle
You lanced a huddle you k@n shooked
i fail the rapper Baquella
this is my football field
throwing passes from a barrel
show the pad to parrel
but the QB dun stand for no quarterback
every word is like a sodd off blast
cuz ya all sodd and im the black herst to came to all ya lassin
this for the hood by the corner store
many cry, many die
commit Nas if you wanna walk get it blood it

[Chorus]

Yo im the "N" the "a" to the "sir" and if i wasn't i must've been escobar
You know the kid got his chicks too fit
kant party with the barbus precise bravehearted for life
Return of the golden child
Son of a blues player so who are you player
ya waited the truth save ya
Puppin that poppa crew, cops in that vodka too
poppy choose to grow up wake up in a hospital
So i dun neva, remember i do this the righteous step
you jewdous thought i was gone so when ima light up my death
ya been all happy, go lucky bunch of sandles call me godson with my pants low
i dun gots low put them rags up like petey pablo
This is NASDAQ though in my nas car with the nas flow
who could beat that not a songg reppin
hit the record store neva let me go
get my whole collection yo

[Chorus]

Its the return of the Prince the Bars
This is real hardcore
Kid Rockin and Limp Bizkits off
Sit tricks get chicks risks rinse a floss
stick shift look stick up in that box of porch
The top cut off rich kids goin cop the sauce
they don't know about the blocks Amor
And everybody wanna know where kids go
where they rest at, where they shop at, and dress at
You know we got dough, where does he live
is he still at the bridge, does he realli know how iller he is?
Got all of ya watching my moves watching my jewels
Hoppin mah coop, dodge interviews like that
Its not only mah jewels, ice anything plenty things
look at my tennis shoes are iced out
Who am i, the backtwister, the lingerie ripper
automatic legg spreader put the brain gett it
Keepin it gangsta with cha

[Chorus]
Got Yourself a Gun