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Nas
Nas — Like me
Nas — Like me (текст песни)
[Intro] Ay yeah, what’s happenin mommy? How you doin baby? Oh you lookin kinda good and everything, I see you with them stilettos on baby Ay check this out, you ain’t got time to talk to me? Ay let me put the bug in your ear baby Want you turnin them hoe shoes into some flows shoes, you dig? Yeah, check this out, this Universe Finest, your Royal Highness You know what baby? I can do a whole lot of thangs for you Guess why, cause I’m a motherfuckin pimp [Hook: singer] (Like me...) Hustlin and grindin babe (I be...) Stayin on that paper chase In this life there’s pimps and hoes Tell me which one are you, you a nigga (Like me...) Hustlin and grindin babe (I be...) Stayin on that paper chase In this life there’s pimps and hoes Tell me which one are you [Verse 1] The good man in me say ’Get money and stay on the path’ But the pimp shit in me say ’Yo, keep lookin for ass’ But my daughter gave me a gift, somethin to hold A little city in water, when you shake it, it snow I told her never let a sucker nigga take off her clothes Better wait till you grown, when he love you, you’ll know Everybody’s got a dream, a hopeful wish to own a six times two Cylinder whip, a fantasy, a bone to pick With friends to get against who I don’t know Someone who said you won’t blow, you won’t eat, you won’t cake They mistake blamin me for they failures, I’m fresh, gettin tailored Single breasted, a lip brush, it’s senseless, some pimp shit A woman hates a man and stays with him for many years Tell him she loves him and be jealous of him Now lame is how the ghetto judge him, cause he still with her She’ll take his cash and give it to some other real nigga [Hook] [Interlude] Ay pimpin been goin on man for eons and eons man since the beginnin of time You know me, the only thing I need to do is get on the grind and get mine So the only thing I gotta tell you man is you know, do what you gotta do man Bring my money back, get on that track and get on your back [Verse 2] I heard ’em say the NBA’s a bunch of million-dollar slaves A portea wasn’t real back in the days, the point I make is Jerry owns the Lakers, his yearly takings Let’s just say more than collectively all of his players That’s business, not really pimp shit Maybe a titbit similar to when we rappers make big hits and not own the masters, that’s the deal By the way, portea helps all the Denzels excel He kept it more than real, but Hollywood can turn a girl out I knew a girl bout, 5’9’, so fine, she could result grind She was sleek, sheek, with a classic mouth Movie directors always fucked her on the casting couch She came out with a blockbuster, can’t knock a hustler She not a hooker, she focused, a hopeless soul on a lonely road I showed her all my stones and gold I said ’Bitch, life is cold, you need to roll with a nigga’ [Hook]