N.O.R.E.: Bloody money part II

intro: Noreaga talking [Noreaga] Yo, New Orleans, LA, Va to Queens, I-95, where we never drive clean But good, gotta get out the hood, to really make it, now we kick it Until our whole team'll take it to another level, another Rolie wit Another bezel, like war against God against another devil Sustainin, now we rim Moschino, niggaz say we taped it, switched it Now it's Cristal, instead of Mistic, Jose, catch me wit a pigeon and A gold biscuit, gettin mad lifted, let me find out, it's sellin dimes Out my crack house, yeah that's crashed out, let me catch that Just like Stackhouse, kick ya back out, have you mad vexed Like you did your whole bid, but didn't max out, yo Jose is In other words courageous, from South Carolina to D.C. Yo the NC in Atlanta like Montana, comin out the airport wit the hammer Motherfucker, smoke more weed than Chris Tucker, in Friday When he treated Worm like a sucker, in three ways Sell a whole key in three days, the way I know the crack game'll have you amazed In the ill days, yo I drink Lectaid, Jose is sayin chulo, like Menegay South side lost royal and royal, grand royale in Ohio, Cincinnati, Minnesoto Yo from Philly to Connecticut, got niggaz settin in, all predicate Like this rap game is pregnant, N-O-R-E, Nore Stand for Niggaz On the Run Eatin, no matter if they still treatin The object of the game is just to stay leavin, hit me on the Nokio Let me know if you still breathin, top grenade, ice it up, cop pies, slice it up You really think you nice enough, fuck around wit Trice Allah Even seekin scrolls until your world fall in, to my niggaz gettin they props Where they supposed to've been, don't rush, take your time The best come to those who wait, like Heinz, they be ketchup and spoil your keg Aiyyo it's I-95, wit my niggaz lost faith, wha! Chorus 2x: Nas (Noreaga) Blood money (That's what this life lead to) Blood money (That's how my niggaz bleed to) Blood money (That's what we smoke weed to) Blood money (That's how my niggaz eat to) [Nature] Aiyyo, eatin from the same plate, and drinkin from the same cup Whoever thought that some much would have to change I went to games as a Knicks fan, they had Strickland, they traded him Ever since then, son, I hated them, shit's turnin sour in the N-Y Half the team hurt, still niggaz get high and rock Queens shirts Feinds on the block know me for holdin b's work Seein chips poppin up in European whips, exceed the speed limit Tinted up and weed scented, treatin life like the auto bomb, never slow up I'm gettin head for being young and vulger, fly gifted Y'all niggaz die over bitch shit, I got some hoes in the law gettin high Like Rik Smits, born hypocrit, every now and then be on some different shit Switch directions, my bad, quick disception My first love is for bloody money so skip the extras Chorus [Nas] Now what's a don?, a nigga that's a thug wit a charm, always on point As soon as he's on, his goons'll respond, he move right and fear losin his life Mad dime, but never could fit the shoes of his wife You could tell by the finger nails, clean, hair diced up, every four days A weekly routine, where he lived, stay out the hood, fuck what a nigga say Out for blood, but yo, lustin the dough, he see snake smile for way In the same garden he play, but a true don'll get his proper groove on He tell the truth even when he lies, give you a fake name Even though his name is Nas, god body, and wide body, rumble for five To the S-Class, six niggaz, double your size, either come wit a plan To make it happen, cuz sellin weight or rappin, we still trapped in a slave mine And keep the crackers laughin (That's what this life lead to) Chorus