War

Yeah, DJ Clue, Desert Storm
 New Nas, it's called War
 Squinted-eye gangsta, live in a skyscraper
 Platinum Patron drinker, stackin' that grown paper
 God pushed me out His ***
 The Devil swallowed me up, I burnt a hole in his guts
 Fell down into a Louis Vuitton truck with stash boxes
 And *** in it sayin' blast Nas ***
 Drove down harm's way, puffin' that bombay
 QB thug tattoo on my arm say
 Names of my fam, so I'ma read you a scripture
 And commandments to get you richer
 Bandannas, hammers, MAC's and nina's
 With the mismatched Pumas like Shan in Queensbridge
 All white shell toes, that's that Queens thing
 Brightland, ice wine, call that weed sling
 Know where G slang
 And the *** with bomb *** that slurp on me and my comrades
 Got a new contract, come on, black
 *** y'all just gettin' up on, I'm beyond that
 No time for crumbs, I really don't see them
 They just started livin', just started havin' threesomes
 Just started havin' girls who like them
 That's why I got married 'cause my world ain't like them
 So why they keep tellin' those stories?
 ***, y'all square, ***, this is my year, ***
 Professional, Pt. 3, you see it
 DJ Clue, Desert Storm