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Hustlers [Clean]
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NAS
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1
Yeah
2
Dre, he a Compton-Compton O.G.
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Nas, he a QB-QB true G
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Do the history
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Way before The Firm, like back in the day
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Nas was the first New York **** rappin' with Dre
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So of course I got a track to bring it back to your face
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The one kid that would've been Aftermath that got away
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But we still get together like every several years
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To sprinkle, a little bit of Heaven for your ears
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Relax sippin' Calico in Rio, stupid ****
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Low-key, know G's, but it's still Gucci luggage
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I love Cape Cod, and watchin' fly **** with gray eyes
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Wrestle in a tub of KY to get my day by
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I like to celebrate, why? 'Cause I can vision
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Collages and images of my lies with no regret to hate
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So every breath I take, is all about the rules
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It's hard for you to breathe like you at high altitude
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So crack the Patr탳, it's on heathens, The God's back
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Hard body, Mr. Jones never leavin'
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Hustlers, dealers, drop-top riders
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Make that cake, cop two five fivers
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Pimps and players, platinum diamonds
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East to West Coast we riders
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Hustlers, dealers, drop-top riders
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Make that cake, cop two five fivers
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Pimps and players, platinum diamonds
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East to West coasting, oh yeah
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He a Compton-Compton O.G.
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Mix that with a QB-QB true G
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What you got's a **** of some different ghetto blocks
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West Coast kill the tracks, East Coast gunshots
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He a Compton-Compton O.G.
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Mix that with a QB-QB true G
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What you got's a **** of some different ghetto blocks
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West Coast kill the tracks, East Coast gun
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1995, eleven years from the day
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I'm in the record shop with choices to make
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'Illmati' on the top shelf, 'The Chronic' on the left homie
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Wanna cop both but only got a twenty on me
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So **** it, I stole both, spent the twenty on a dub sack
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Ripped the package off 'Illmatic' and bumped that
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For my **** it was too complex when Nas rhymed
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I was the only Compton **** with a 'New York State of Mind'
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Inside the dope house bottlin' up sherm, bangin' The Firm
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Dre was king then so I waited my turn
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Fast forward, now I'm makin' 'em burn
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Ended my peers careers, hollered at Nas, a hard lesson was learned
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So I reconciled my differences like he did with Jigga
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I stopped beefin' with ****, 'cause I'm 'Ether' to ****
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Comb the earth 'til there's no one left
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'If I Ruled the World' I summons all you weak rap **** to death
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He a Compton-Compton O.G.
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Mix that with a QB-QB true G
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What you got's a **** of some different ghetto blocks
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West Coast kill the tracks, East Coast gunshots
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Yo, the Jordans sportin'
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Come off the dice game with a fortune walkin', you a walkin' coffin'
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The musket I tucked it, you bluff it I bust it
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You're sideways talkin', so I lay often
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I wait patient, to duct tape hatin'
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****, get bucked ****
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Pluck ashes of Cuban cigars, you foolin' with Nas
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That's my name and I came with Rugers this time
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And if I'm sane that 'Soul Plane' movie's the bomb
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Word to my mom's name tattooed to my arm
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You can't revolve me, embalm me, calm me or harm me
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Rob me or dodge these bullets I'm bustin'
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See that's malarky you yappin'
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I open up the tripod to put the Gatling on, and I start clappin'
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Nasty man, from baggin' grams and runnin' from cops
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To a mill' on the hand, a mill' on the watch, I'm **** with Doc
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Hustlers, dealers, drop-top riders
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Make that cake, cop two five fivers
75
Pimps and players, platinum diamonds
76
East to West Coast we riders
77
Hustlers, dealers, drop-top riders
78
Make that cake, cop two five fivers
79
Pimps and players, platinum diamonds
80
East to West Coast, oh yeah
Nas - Ether (Lyrics)
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![Hustlers [Clean] album art](/images/albums/85/94/nas-hip-hop-is-dead-expanded-edition.jpg)