Funkmaster Flex
Millennium Thug
[Intro: Nashawn]
Uh
2000

[Verse 1: Nashawn]
Ayo, I'm yappin' these jewels
Clappin' these dudes
A straight born Killa
It's Q.B. Borough n***a, untamed Gorillas
N***as that put holes in squealers
Dope dealers, I see police flashin' through my rearview mirror
Put the brick in my waist, tighten my belt
Safety off the Nine, they gotta kill me for mine
I'm floatin', left lane open where I could get through
The cop blazed the pistol, busted out my back window
I skidded out, now I'm outta control
Slammed on the break and shot out the rear do'
I'm hearin' ambulance sirens, I kept firin'
It's gotta be them cause I ain't dyin'
I'm bonin' out
Bit the top off a Guiness stoute
Pour some out, Bravehearts no doubt
I glove n***as, uppercut thug n***as
Look at my mug, you can tell that I'm bugged n***as

[Chorus: Nas]
Why it feel good to be real and reveal who's fake? Why ya'll n***as got the girly mouth?
Why we feel great? Why ya'll look mad with frowned face? Why the hoes love the Gods, Bravehearts, Nas, and Nash'?
Why them Bravehearts roll hard with nickel plates?
With big slugs that can't be traced, and why ya'll look so corny tryna imitate
These real n***as that'll punch you in your face?
[Verse 2: Nas]
I saw n***as get smacked and have the street thinkin' they real
Saw n***as wives and knew 'em as the cum drinkin' girls
High saditty, she act like she innocent
She act like her pussy ain't where my n***as been
Hate when she act like she never met me
She can't forget me
Thugs respect me, jealous n***as say F me
Cause I cruise yachts like Lefty and Sonny Black
Your hoes wanna lick honey out my crack
I'll fart in your bitch mouth, she call me psychic
Cause I knew she would like it
Push fleetwood Caddy's feelin' righteous
I eat good, no red meat I like Fish
Y'all never in your life seen money
I live like a Gangster from the Nineteen Twenties
Smuggle bootleg liquor
I shoot 'till you dead n***a
I'm about bread, these rhymes off the head n***a
Wear Esco leathers and Esco fleece
I flow off techno beats and rep the streets
You a one verse assasin
I'm a multiple LP long lastin'
Peekin' again
Grimy n***a with different color ink in my skin
Former low life, now I'm the Bling Bling King
Respect it
See me with the shit I say on record
Not like these fake thugs, please wake up
If I die I'ma rise from the grave
With two Four-Fives and maggots in my eyes to make n***as pay!
[Chorus: Nas]
Why it feel good to be real and reveal who's fake? Why ya'll n***as got the girly mouth?
Why we feel great? Why ya'll look mad with frowned face? Why the hoes love the Gods, Bravehearts, Nas, and Nash'?
Why them Bravehearts roll hard with nickel plates?
With big slugs that can't be traced, and why ya'll look so corny tryna imitate
These real n***as that'll punch you in your face?

[Outro: Nas & Nashawn]
What
Punch you in your fuckin' face
Come here, y'all n***as wanna battle?
Fuck y'all n***as, I punch you in your motherfuckin face
Y'all girly mouth n***as, what (That's realistic, y'all girly mouth n***as)
What, Braveheart
Millennium thug
Bravehearts in this muhfucker
2000, to never
Nashawn, Nastradamus (What, [?] the world)
To my n***a Big Kap ([?] on all you moldy rap cats)
You know how we do this shit, let's go on tour (Yeah), get that money and bring it home, baby (That motherfuckin' money)
You heard me (Bring it all the way back)
Far rock Q.B. (Q.B. the realness, uh)
To all you girly mouth n***as
What, get the fuck off the set, kill y'all n***as
Punch you in your fuckin' face
Too real