The Art Of It (ft. J. Myers)

Uh, fire spitter, I ain't never met a higher nigga
 Me extinguished is like Queensbridge fiendless
 Mansion, marble foyer
 I can afford a closet in alphabet order
 A life, Adidas under A, the B for beater, Bottega
 British Knights sneaker, my C so ill
 That, man, I get chills when I look at my Christian Diors, they kill
 D is for Dries Van Noten
 Young niggas try to keep up with what I'm doing
 D cups, tequila and blunts
 Weed, women, and liquor
 Depending on the day is a different mission
 They not knowing, they wanna know what he got on
 The QB Don went and got his Pete Rock on
 Nas keep a fine bitch to roll his weed up for him
 My niggas in Mount Vernon keep it G'd up for him
 Speaking of G, the gat I'm good with it, hit your hood with it
 .44s never could miss him, coming to see us
 Glad to see you made it home to the hood, nigga
 We blowing trees, tell me, don't it feel good, nigga?
 Damn it feels good, it feels good don't it?
 La-la-la (yeah)
 Put that good shit in the air (yeah)
 La-la-la
 Niggas in the hood don't live forever (my G niggas)
 As long as we together (my QB niggas)
 We gon' put that good shit in the air (yeah)
 La-la-la
 Another bullet manufactured, another man in his casket
 Fuck maintaining, that's lame language
 Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, I duck quick
 Seen fire flashes, the type of fire that spit out a magnum
 And I'm the type who runs to the drama looking for who clapping
 Nike boot, what I eat him, he like food
 Pulled out the barrel
 Four-fifths rip through bone marrow
 Make his toes spiral the dirt
 While his feet kick up rock, he's a sprinter
 Police agenda, lock up niggas for three winters
 When I attack I'm faceless like a iron mask
 They get away quick, traceless, lying back, liars pass
 I breathe deep like Lamaze class
 Live young, obtain wisdom, and die last
 Stretched out or in a body bag, I ain't that
 Live young, obtain wisdom, and die last
 Damn it feels good, it feels good don't it?
 La-la-la (yeah)
 Put that good shit in the air (yeah)
 La-la-la
 Niggas in the hood don't live forever (my G niggas)
 As long as we together (my QB niggas)
 We gon' put that good shit in the air (yeah)
 La-la-la
 Look, I don't have that much time, candidly, I'm in divorce
 Rumors, DUIs, in and out of court
 Different judges, assault charges hovers on your boy
 Other niggas' wives lust to be under covers with your boy
 Y'all don't want an angry Nas on your label
 Y'all got plenty checks, CEO, man
 I'm only 36, but if it's, point five on the table
 I say with all respect my dude
 Thank you, we had the best times, but I'm about respect, I'm about the talent I possess
 Never know, there could just be a time when I'm behind your desk, then let you go
 Could you imagine Nas the exec?
 The artist on the masters controlling your release
 Probably they wanna wait 'til I'm deceased to honor me
 So my product'll be a big commodity
 Not bothered if my son and daughter eat off of me
 Cautiously I write this next line honestly 'cause I'm a G, there's no beef
 I used to open off making 50 G's
 But now I spend that on a diamond to make her neck freeze
 My larynx'll serenade the hood
 I tell the cops my blood dirty, they say I'm all good
 TMZ, they hoping when the marriage end I'ma turn to Larry Flynt
 Nas is not the average gent, I'm on my classy shit
 Here's one small percent of what y'all in store to get
 More real nigga shit
 Damn it feels good, it feels good don't it?
 La-la-la (yeah)
 Put that good shit in the air (yeah)
 La-la-la
 Niggas in the hood don't live forever (my G niggas)
 As long as we together (my QB niggas)
 We gon' put that good shit in the air (yeah)
 La-la-la