Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Loco-Motive, artist - Nas. Date of issue: 31.12.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Loco-Motive |
| Yo, yo, I live it and I speak it My religion is reefer |
| Big money in most, an uninhibited freak to sleep with |
| My visions are realistic, nothing’s figurative |
| I can wish it into existence, God want this nigga to live |
| Blunt big as a dread, I get high and forget who bled |
| Who we stomp-kicked in the head and who we left for dead |
| Who are you niggas? |
| Why argue niggas? |
| The truth is the truth, I really put my scars on niggas |
| They wait a lifetime, they tell they hoes, «Nas did this» |
| Pointin’to they scars like, «Right here, baby, really Nas did this» |
| Like a badge of honor, not braggin’I’m just honest |
| War stories we tell them, nothin’s realer than karma |
| Sip prohibition liquor, prohibition whiskey |
| Rap Jack Demsey, Matt Black Bentley, pimply |
| Shatterin’your silence, pass around the chalice |
| Due to my Indian ancestry at the weed dispensery |
| Official kings and gents is who I mix and mingle with |
| Fuck your ice, I rock rubies, amethyst |
| I fuck your wife cause she a groupie, scandalous |
| This for my bad hood bitches, ghetto glamorous |
| Yo, what we talkin''bout niggas? |
| What we talkin''bout niggas? |
| This is Nas, what, Nas |
| What, Nasty, what, recollect, |
| At seventeen I made seventeen thousand livin’in public housin' |
| Integrity in tact, reppin’hard |
| They askin’how he disappear and reappear back on top |
| Sayin', «Nas must have naked pictures of God or somethin'» |
| To keep winnin’is my way like Francis |
| As long as I’m breathin', I’ll take chances |
| A soldier comin’home, twenty years old with no legs |
| Sayin’there’s no sense to cry and complain, just go 'head |
| So much to write and say, yo I don’t know where to start |
| So I’ll begin with the basics and flow from the heart |
| I know you think my life is good cause my diamond piece |
| But my life been good since I started finding peace |
| I shouldn’t even be smilin', I should be angry and depressed |
| I been rich longer than I been broke, I confess |
| I started out broke, got rich, lost paper then made it back |
| Like Trump bein’up down up, play with cash |
| My nigga’s like a locomotive |
| Nas, we push it, mush 'em |
| Queensbridge to Bushwick |
| Harlem, Bronx, all that |
| You ain’t even supposed to be out here |
| You know where you at? |
| Verse 3: Nas] |
| At night, New York, eat a slice too hot |
| Use my tongue to tear the skin hangin’from the roof of my mouth |
| Shit was Falicimo, melted pot, city sweltering hot |
| Staggerin’drunker than those cops that 2pac shot |
| I was a crook by the train with that iron thing, concealed |
| Reachin', soon as I heard them iron wheels screechin' |
| When it came to a halt whoever walked off got caught |
| Toker man safe behind a locked door for sure |
| Minor theif shit, minor league shit, beastin' |
| Lookin’for the young, but now we older chiefin' |
| In my truck, play The Greatest Adventures of Slick Rick |
| Buggin’on how his imagination was so sick |
| It’s ghetto beef, sinister niggas snicker through yellow teeth |
| Alchohol agin’my niggas faster than felonies |
| How dare I? |
| Must be, somethin’in the air that corrupts me Look at my upkeep, owned and sublease |
| I’m here y’all |
| This for my trapped in the 90′s niggas |
| For my trapped in the 90′s niggas |
| Ha, for y’all niggas |