Qb's Finest: Find ya wealth

[nas]Crime, life, bitches, moneyTime..For my braveheart's.. my braveheart'sUhh, uhh, uhh.. what, what, what?One time.. two times..From "breaking atoms" to "illmatic", to goin platinumShit did change course since rippin it with main sourceNine-one, nine-two, time flewOut of the blue, time for a new young king to ruleYounger frame, older state of mindFind my name on a page in your qu'ran, i learned that, in '89When i was slingin cocaine and baby 9'sPut it in rap and i gave y'all a way to rhymeGod guides us, from public assistance to high risesCondos, houses where y'all can't find usMove on your cliques in silence, and wet it upMy meal everyday was a slice and 7-upTook advice from a street legendIdentities have been changed, to protect the innocentWitnessin niggaz mistakes, visits at niggaz wakesCause jealousy infiltrates and seals your fate[chorus]Look way deep inside yourselfDiscover the diamond inside, find ya wealthOnce you get it, you gotta live it the limitNiggaz never wanna see you with it, fuck them tho'Niggaz can't come close enough to touch the doughThe lifestyle i live is untouchableSo we clutch a few, guns that'll touch your crewCause we learned to do what the hustlers do[nas]Different ways to come out the hood - in cuffs or a casketOr crazy, or shootin three pointer basketsOr maybe - it's the rap shit, all type of tacticsWe use to get dough, some choose kickin in doorsI asked a reverand, my mother and a best friendLess than ten years ago for me to get doughWhat y'all recommend is either dope weed or blowCause high school was slow, and jewelry was hotDuckin truancy cops, trains i hopped, to make it downtownCisco in my veins, pissed between trainsCanal street, just lookin at ringsOutside through a glass, went in the store and askedHow much it cost, korean man brushin me offFor some other big time customer, probably a hustlerWho looked down at my small chain and chuckled upI said, "i'll be just like you soon, motherfucker what?"[chorus][nas]To them niggaz who get life and throw a smile at the judgeWildest thugs, who blow trial, exiled from the hoodKeepin bitches, comin through on visitsYou will survive, them weak freaks think you finishedYou first time in you known for poppin your toastBy your third year in you forgotten by mostNiggaz wife cut them out of they life, niggaz don't writeFriends actin like they don't be gettin your kitesIt be ill, niggaz comin home and no time to get killedNot even home a month and they get peeled, backwardsIn they own backyard or in the parkOne to the head, two to the heart, you should be smartIn the projects, who gon' die next?Hoodrats know who let the gats blow and who keep cashflowLike the niggaz know the rats, with some good assholeBlunts be a good-ass roll while passin your 'dro[chorus][nas]Feel me?One time, huh, two times, uhh uhh uhhWhat what what? uhh uhh uhh..