See Nas’ verse on Rick Ross’ “Usual Suspects.” (a couple lines are unclear) That type of writing…you just have to have it
And still my talent is yet to be challenged
Had no jet with my own pilot
No blastin’ off with Flex and DJ Khaled
My mom stressin’ college
But my crude sense of logic did allude to my empty wallet
Try spending on a green tinted Accord
Which could mean a sentence up North
Where the homie was, but back then dough was like a whore that goldie love, it didn’t exist
And officer foley cuffs was after my wrists
Was not Beverly Hills where we chilled
Imagine this, the Nasareth
Had to get from rags to rich
I used to stand on rooftops with two glocks
Figurin’ how do I turn my Timbalands to guap
Now reptiles was left out up out a watch
What is you thinkin’? Murk you, plus the muscle that you bringin’ is nothin’ to me
If you thuggin’ or fake and shanked on Cuban
Shout out my Ricans
Dealt with all of you gangstas, from the roughest Jamaicans and Haitians
You have quite a few mistakes. I didn’t go through it all but here’s the correct ending.
Figurin’ how do I turn my Timbalands to crocs
Now reptiles was left out, I’m ’bout a watch
What is you thinkin’? Murk you, plus the muscle that you bringin’ is nothin’ to me
If you thuggin’ or fake, shanked on Cuban, shot at by ‘Ricans
Dealt with all of you gangstas, from the roughest Jamaicans and Haitians