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"Nasty Nas Freestyle, Part 2" lyrics by NAS
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"Nasty Nas Freestyle, Part 2"

[Verse 1:]
Yo, they call me Nas, I'm not your legal type of fella
Moet drinkin, marijuana smokin street dweller
Who's always on the corner, rollin up blessed
When I dress, it's never nuttin less than Guess
Cold be walkin with a bop and my hat turned back, huh
Love committin sins and my friends sell crack
This nigga raps with a razor, keep it under my tongue
The school drop-out, never liked the shit from day one
Cause life ain't shit but stress fake niggaz and crab stunts
So I guzzle my Hennesey while pullin on mad blunts
The brutalizer, crew de-sizer, accelerator
The type of nigga who be pissin in your elevator
Somehow the rap game reminds me of the crack game
Used to sport Bally's and Gazelle's with black frames
Now I'm into fat chains, sex and Tecs
Fly new chicks and new kicks, Heine's and Beck's
It's like that ya'll... I neva stop ya'll... Cause Nasty Nas got the ghetto Hip Hop ya'll
Straight out of the Bridge

[Verse 2:]
It's Real and any day could be your last in the jungle
Get murdered on the humble, guns'll blast, niggaz tumble
The corners is the hot spot, full of mad criminals
Who don't care, guzzlin beers, we all stare at the out-of-towners
Yo... You beta get it on time kid...
Star razor under my tongue... and near my gums
When I'm not strapped... I'll blow just before you cock your glocc back
Touch your temple, and leave you leaking, while I'm speaking
Cause shit that I be freaking, gives me papers, while I'm sleeping... G
I walk around mega hard, like wateva God...
You could'ntcount how many niggas my bretta scarred
I light the marijuana smoke, and chicks
And posers that I'm smoking with
Could'nttake it, my ganja left emotionless
I leave your brain stuck
Giving hoes a plain fuck
They call me Nasty, but I'm not with the strange stuff
When I'm drunk, I stagger right and lyrics with a dagger
Next stabber catchin reck, badder than a tec would had-a...
Lefted struck, now whose next up...
I murder, send me to San Quentin and I'm lynching niggas... Word Up
A sing-sing, fuck is a hang, still is the same thing...
No... matter the cell blockNas will be named King
I slaughter... drinking head rock...
Fuck sum water, peace to all the niggas with my shit in ya tape recorder
To all the scramblers, be careful
Goin hand in, hand
Cause on the yo, yo chill, chill, Word to Mother

[Thanks to Travis for these lyrics]

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