Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I'm a Villain, artist - Nas. Date of issue: 14.04.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
I'm a Villain |
| I’m the nigga walkin with his finger on the trigger |
| Make enough figures until my pockets get bigger |
| I ain’t the type of brother made for you to start testin |
| Gimme a Smith-N-Wesson I’ll have niggas undressin |
| I’m rollin with a mob and runnin from the cops |
| Drive stolen cars and shoot many Glocks |
| A marijuana addict, if niggas want static |
| They had it, cause I flip just like a acrobatic |
| I’m always on the corners rollin up Sess |
| When I dress it’s never nothin less than Guess |
| So I walk with a bop and my hat turned back |
| Love commitin sins and my friends sell crack |
| I got it goin on, my knuckle game is strong |
| Sip Dom Pérignon and then carry on |
| Army certifieds, keep a Rent-A-Ride |
| Strippin mad hoes and kick em to the side |
| See I’m the type of brother who keeps a four-pounder |
| Start a lot of shit and shoot at out of towners |
| At every block party, I try to catch a body |
| All for props, tell your pops call the cops |
| See now I’m on the run, but still havin fun |
| Livin by the Mac, my gear is all black |
| I keep killin, because I’m ready and I’m willin |
| And I’m a villian |
| What? |
| What? |
| Wha-a-a-t? |
| I got beef with the President and still lovin it |
| Trying to make plans to overthrow the government |
| It won’t work cause niggas don’t believe enough |
| They’d rather stand on the corners and receive a cuff |
| Around they wrist, you don’t like the sound of this |
| Rebel, but my country doesn’t want me |
| They’d rather hunt me, but you’ll never catch us all |
| While you fuckin with the dealers we’ll be sticking up the malls |
| Full of anger, all about danger |
| Pullin out my banger, stabbin up a stranger |
| I hear Walkie Talkies in my sleep |
| And use a whole lot of slang when I speak |
| Walking with a vest, the projects is where I rest |
| And the streets keep me stressed |
| Staring at your face, wait for you to make a sound |
| That’s when I take you down, shoot you up and suit you up |
| All in black, and put you in a box |
| A hard rock with a .25 in my socks |
| Aiming at your temple, so take the diamonds off your hands |
| I’m buckwild like Billy Bear and Ganz |
| Prince of pistolers, words are crystal clear |
| And this you should fear |
| The maniac keeps killing, I’m known as a outlaw |
| Cause I’m a villain |
| I keep bullets racing out the barrels of a Magnum |
| Put 'em to sleep and leave the doctors to tag them |
| An outlaw, although I never wear a holster |
| In every town you see my face is on a poster |
| Hear so many gunshots my eardrums should pop |
| Eyesight should stop, from seeing mad niggas drop |
| To the concrete, I got police putting chalk on the street |
| And this is done once a week |
| I’m out to kill, like Navy Seals |
| I’m crazy ill, and what I can’t do my .380 will |
| I never play with a AK |
| Because I’m fine with a .9 and if caught I’ll do lesser time |
| Sometimes you gotta plan shit, and understand it |
| See I’m a bandit whose hand’ll itch |
| Without a gun in it, Nas is runnin it |
| I stay blunted, I’m the project’s most wanted |
| My voice is like magic |
| My cassette is the clip and your radio’s the Automatic |
| So when I’m in your town, «duck down» |
| Or take fire, whatever you desire |
| But I’m on point you might miss |
| Never fight this, you’ll be sightless when I strike this |
| So roll the dice, I’m stoppin the bank |
| It’s ill how I got the pen droppin the ink |
| No one can stop this Apocalypse |
| On your record player a method layer so run and tell your Mayor |
| Nas the parlayer, you better say your prayer |
| I’m the New York City slayer |
| I play high post and then lay low |
| Parlé slow and wear horns, not a halo |
| And keep killin, cause I’m a villain |