Lyrics
Fire spitter, I ain't never met a higher nigga
Me extinguished is like Queensbridge fiendless
Mansion, marble foyer
I can afford a closet in alphabet order
A life, Adidas under A, the B for beater, Bottega
British Knights sneaker, my C so ill
That man I get chills when I look at my Christian Dior's, they kill
D is for Dries Van Noten
Young niggas try to keep up with what I'm doing
D cups, tequila and blunts
Weed, women, and liquor
Depending on the day is a different mission
They not knowing, they wanna know what he got on
The QB Don went and got his Pete Rock on
Nas keep a fine bitch to roll his weed up on
My niggas in Mount Vernon keep it G'd up for him
Speaking of G, the Gat I'm good with it, hit your hood with it
.44s never could miss him, coming to see us
Glad to see you made it home to the hood, nigga
We blowing trees, tell me don't it feel good, nigga

Damn it feels good, it feels good don't it
La-la-la
Put that good shit in the air (yeah)
La-la-la
Niggas in the hood don't live forever (my G niggas)
As long as we here together (my QB niggas)
We gon' put that good shit in the air (yeah)
La-la-la

Another bullet manufactured, another man in his casket
Fuck maintaining, that's lame language
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, I duck quick
Seen fire flashes, the type of fire that spit out a magnum
And I'm the type who runs to the drama looking for who's clapping
Night boo
What I eat him, he like food
Pulled out the barrel
4-5ths rip through bone marrow
Make his toes spiral the dirt
While his feet kick up rock, he's a sprinter
Police agenda, lock up niggas for three winters
When I attack I'm faceless like an iron mask
They get away quick traceless, lying back, liars pass
I breathe deep like Lamaze class
Live young, obtain wisdom, and die last
Stretched out or in a body bag, I ain't that
Live young, obtain wisdom, and die last

Damn it feels good, it feels good don't it
La-la-la
Put that good shit in the air (yeah)
La-la-la
Niggas in the hood don't live forever (my G niggas)
As long as we here together (my QB niggas)
We gon' put that good shit in the air (yeah)
La-la-la

Look I don't have that much time, candidly I'm in divorce
Rumors, DUIs, in and out of court
Different judges, assault charges hovers on your boy
Other niggas' wives lust to be under covers with your boy
Y'all don't want an angry Nas on your label
Y'all got plenty checks, CEO man
I'm only 36 but if it's p-point five on the table
I say with all respect my dude
Thank you, we had the best times but I'm about respect, I'm about the talent I possess
Never know, there could just be a time when I'm behind your desk then let you go
Could you imagine Nas the exec?
The artiste on the masters controlling your release
Probably they wanna wait 'til I'm deceased to honor me
So my product'll be a big commodity
Not bothered if my son and daughter eat off of me
Cautiously I write this next line honestly 'cause I'm a G, there's no beef
I used to open to making fifty G's
But now I spend that on a diamond to make her neck freeze
My larynx'll serenade the hood
I tell the cops my blood dirty, they say I'm all good
TMZ, they hoping when the marriage end I'ma turn to Larry Flynt
Nas is not the average gent, I'm on my classy shit
Here's one small percent of what y'all in store to get
More real nigga shit

Damn it feels good, it feels good don't it
La-la-la
Put that good shit in the air (yeah)
La-la-la
Niggas in the hood don't live forever (my G niggas)
As long as we together (my QB niggas)
We gon' put that good shit in the air (yeah)
La-la-la

Copyright: Songtrust Ave, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Anthony Criss, Jamal Sublett, Keir Gist, Nasir Jones, Peter O. Phillips, Vincent Brown




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