Lời bài hát: Nas. Street's Disciple. Nazareth Savage.
I had bad chicks that blow cum bubbles like bubblegum
Plus they ass lick, summer house, be sippin' rum
Layin' lazy in the recliner, couple days in my ashtray
Smoke signals from the haze
I stick my finger through it, the ring of smoke broke
That symbolize weak guys, pop the strong link off
The infrastructure cave in, amazin'
I ain't have to read the Art of War to slay men
Serve niggaz, bird niggaz speakin' reckless
When they momma love the kid's records, I've made you gutless
You don't know struggle, throw couple shells at you
Hell grabs you, nail stabs a hand of the Nasirine
I carried the cross to help you afford that plasma screen
Gave you chumps a path to walk
Hold my hand, I'm a guide you like the O.G.
But don't talk, don't get it confused
'Cause none y'all can fit in my shoes
Y'all made of chemicals, artificial accents
God'll forgive you bastards
Only if ya'll repent to the Nazareth Savage
I squeeze nipples like pimples to get the puss, get it?
Form a crew, swallow forty cal' bullets after dinner's finished
Wash it down with a shot of tequila, pocket full'a scrilla
Can't come close to Francis Coppola, Samson, no Delilah
You're pint-sized, I'm mic's eyes
With the gladiator tattoos on it
You scared to look too long at
Sit on a don's lap tell you a story, shorty
Spicy like lories, chicken heads and orgies
Criminals that draw heat in their late forties
Drug habits, love grabbin' kids up like yours
Sendin' you a picture of them in they drawers with black eyes
Savage guys, you hire Magnum P.I.'s to bag up my guys
Said you was a thug with a good disguise
Try to protect your cabbage
You runnin' from the Nazareth Savage
Son's backward flows, they say mine is very scary
Smell fear like a canine that finds buried babies
And all of y'all wear that same aroma
How to blow on your eighth L.P, I'll show ya
You're whack, nigga, face it
In the history of the game, you have no placement
Liquor and weed just massacred their mind
Or the celebrity or they couldn't change with time
So now they run they mouth
But when the sun go south, the guns come out
My cavalry woulda been threw ten in your skin
Casualty you don't wanna be, don't want it with me, straight savage
Plus they ass lick, summer house, be sippin' rum
Layin' lazy in the recliner, couple days in my ashtray
Smoke signals from the haze
I stick my finger through it, the ring of smoke broke
That symbolize weak guys, pop the strong link off
The infrastructure cave in, amazin'
I ain't have to read the Art of War to slay men
Serve niggaz, bird niggaz speakin' reckless
When they momma love the kid's records, I've made you gutless
You don't know struggle, throw couple shells at you
Hell grabs you, nail stabs a hand of the Nasirine
I carried the cross to help you afford that plasma screen
Gave you chumps a path to walk
Hold my hand, I'm a guide you like the O.G.
But don't talk, don't get it confused
'Cause none y'all can fit in my shoes
Y'all made of chemicals, artificial accents
God'll forgive you bastards
Only if ya'll repent to the Nazareth Savage
I squeeze nipples like pimples to get the puss, get it?
Form a crew, swallow forty cal' bullets after dinner's finished
Wash it down with a shot of tequila, pocket full'a scrilla
Can't come close to Francis Coppola, Samson, no Delilah
You're pint-sized, I'm mic's eyes
With the gladiator tattoos on it
You scared to look too long at
Sit on a don's lap tell you a story, shorty
Spicy like lories, chicken heads and orgies
Criminals that draw heat in their late forties
Drug habits, love grabbin' kids up like yours
Sendin' you a picture of them in they drawers with black eyes
Savage guys, you hire Magnum P.I.'s to bag up my guys
Said you was a thug with a good disguise
Try to protect your cabbage
You runnin' from the Nazareth Savage
Son's backward flows, they say mine is very scary
Smell fear like a canine that finds buried babies
And all of y'all wear that same aroma
How to blow on your eighth L.P, I'll show ya
You're whack, nigga, face it
In the history of the game, you have no placement
Liquor and weed just massacred their mind
Or the celebrity or they couldn't change with time
So now they run they mouth
But when the sun go south, the guns come out
My cavalry woulda been threw ten in your skin
Casualty you don't wanna be, don't want it with me, straight savage
Street's Disciple - Cd 1
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