Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Breathe , by - Nas. Song from the album Nas, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 31.12.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: DEF JAM
Song language: English
Breathe |
| In America, you’ll never be free |
| Middle fingers up, fuck the police |
| Damn, can’t a nigga just breathe? |
| Braveheart, still QB’s Finest |
| Grinding, enough diamonds to change the climate |
| Not only do you see a nigga shining, you can see a nigga breathe |
| Jewels enchanted, like they was new from Atlantis (uhh) |
| Cruise with the hammer, jealous hearted, can’t stand him |
| Haters are scandalous, damn, can’t a nigga just breathe? |
| (woo!) |
| To all my niggas getting money in the streets (yeah) |
| Middle fingers up, fuck the police |
| Light up my trees, and I just breathe… |
| I twist 'em, baby mama beef victim |
| Chronic leaf hitting, all kinds of heat with him, wisdom |
| From pot to piss in to high position |
| Intense hustle, it’s pain like a pinched muscle |
| 'Til it rains and my Timbs stain my socks |
| 'Til I dodge enough shots and the presiding judge slams a mallet |
| And says life I’ma guap, then I cop |
| Then I yacht, then I dock |
| Island hopping away from nightmare holders |
| Or cowboy slingers, who shoot up any club |
| To see they names ring loud on some FBI poster |
| Must be on X or they coked up |
| Suggesting I post a, bail, I’m like, «Yes» 'cause we soldiers |
| We just getting older, in time, we still in our prime |
| I can’t afford a new arrest on my folder |
| Nigga, breathe… |
| In America, you’ll never be free |
| Middle fingers up, fuck the police |
| Damn, can’t a nigga just breathe? |
| Braveheart, still QB’s Finest |
| Grinding, enough diamonds to change the climate |
| Not only do you see a nigga shining, you can see a nigga breathe |
| Jewels enchanted like they was new from Atlantis (uhh) |
| Cruise with the hammer, jealous hearted, can’t stand him |
| Haters are scandalous, damn, can’t a nigga just breathe? |
| (woo!) |
| To all my niggas getting money in the streets (get money) |
| Middle fingers up, fuck the police (fuck 'em) |
| Light up my trees, and I just breathe… |
| I’m, fresh out of city housing, ain’t have too many options |
| Pennies on a pension or penitentiary bounded |
| Plenty Henny in me, envy was simply they trend, see |
| My enemy was every hater that was bigger than me |
| The high life, the fly life |
| Pierre Hardy, imitation of Christ |
| Ice-wear gaudy, since '94 flossy |
| The Lex was an excellent choice now fast forward me |
| The pestilence of the ghetto informed me |
| As a shorty, to push nothing less than a 740 |
| With fresh linen, sip Pellegrinos with Airs on |
| They sick, mixing they water with Airborne |
| Oh, they so sick! |
| Look how I got 'em going crazy, look at that! |
| You gotta let it out, stress, ain’t good man |
| You gotta breathe (breathe…) |
| And America, we gotta be free |
| Breathe… |
| Breathe… |
| Breathe… |
| Breathe… |