Pete Rock

"The Art of It"

[Verse 1: Nas]
Fire spitter, I ain't never met a higher n***a
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 n***as 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 b*t*h to roll his weed up for him
My n***as 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, n***a
We blowing trees, tell me, don't it feel good, n***a?

[Chorus: J. Myers]
Damn it feels good, it feels good don't it?
Put that good sh*t in the air (Yeah)
n***as in the hood don't live forever (My G n***as)
As long as we together (My QB n***as)
We gon' put that good sh*t in the air (Yeah)
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

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