It's Mine

[Havoc]

Yo... straight thugs on this side - it's do or die to the death

Like the terminal ill takin they last breath

Read your last rites - God, forgive me

For the sin I'm about to commit - takin a life

Kill or be killed, rather that than somebody else

Readin my will - you feel what I feel, you know the deal

Keep the infrared next to my bed, one in the head

Hearin noises, dead tired, eyes bloodshot red

Sleep with half closed eyelids

Some say it's strange, sometimes that's how strange life get

Go easy on the bottle, niggas love to see when

Niggas slippin off point, on the strength they bet

Scopin your ice, appraisin it like the Diamond District Jeweler

With they hand on the biscuit

Do ya, wanna get caught lifted; or sober, so you can react quick?

Blow you off the atlas as if I caught you fuckin my wife

On my thousand dollar mattress

It's the world that I live in, Q.B. made me

A moms that loved me and a pops that raised me

Chorus: Nas {singing to the chorus of Brandy's "The Boy is Mine"}

Y'all need to give it up.. we don't give a fuck..

What y'all niggas want.. thug, life, is, mine

Y'all need to give it up.. cause we don't give a fuck..

What y'all niggas want.. thug, life, is, mine

[Prodigy]

I got the style of a still-born child, I'm ill

If it's beef, poke him with the fork, make sure he's done well

(Very very) The streets raised me crazy, now I'm immune to it

So when they start shootin, we don't stop the music

Keep it moving that's how we do it (c'mon, c'mon Dunn)

Been through more drama than the Baldwins, you still crawlin

(Still crawlin) Apply street rules to the office, high performance

Rap author, made millions off of - melodic, hypnotic productions

That'll fuck with your conscience and touch your emotions

(You feel me? You feel me?)

You feel me? I'll write a graphic page

Escort niggas to they grave, relate to the projects

We the black Mobb, it gets deeper than rap music

(Don't get no realer than this!)

It's more real than any words I can muster

Pull the black Cadillac trucks up (What?)

Hop out them shits like what? Y'all niggas can't touch us

Chorus

[Nas Escobar]

Silk shirts on my chest show what a flirt

Halle Berry blew a kiss at the Barbara Streisand concert

Silk pants colored pink, gators match gangster musical thing

And I'll front like my doo doo don't stink

Instinct like Cuba Gooding steppin out the latest toy

Hazard lights blinkin, gators hit the floor

Everybody watch the red carpet entrance, cameras flashin

Just to think, that was yesterday's action

Cause today goes either way - we came a long way

From hallway steps and hand-me-down shit

Fuck my foes, I seen the other side, NexTel cell roam

Call the chopper phone, heliport in my home

Quincy Jones posters

Wake up, guns under my pillow, I can't talk around chauffeurs

Shit is better than a novel, autobiographic

Spit it on tracks, it becomes classic

Start some, make my heart pump, spark one, I'm God son

NAStradamus, last one to blast one when the NARC's come

Know how to leave anything in thirty seconds

When you feel the heat, comin and flee with the murder weapon

I'll release one, shot you deceased, learn your lesson

Your flesh turn to maggots, bastards, you past it

Cremate your flesh to ashes

You don't need a suit, no wake, no funeral, and no casket