| Artist/Band: 
Nas Lyrics for Song: Where Ya'll At
 Lyrics for Album: Hip Hop Is Dead [2006]
 
 
 
 29115>Chorus]
 
 Where them gangsters at?
 
 Where them dimes at?
 
 Where where them gangsters at?
 
 Where them dimes at?
 
 
 
 Where them gangsters at?
 
 Where them dimes at?
 
 Where where them gangsters at?
 
 Where them dimes at?
 
 
 
 Where them gangsters at?
 
 Where them dimes at?
 
 Where where them gangsters at?
 
 Where them dimes at?
 
 
 
 Where them dimes at?
 
 Where them dimes at?
 
 Where where them dimes at?
 
 Where where them dimes at?
 
 
 
 [Nas]
 
 I slow dance with the Devil
 
 Snow setting in the bezzle
 
 Mo' sipping, phantom bumping Aaron Neville
 
 Polo black scented, eyes squinted
 
 Air Force One's, with my own patent in it
 
 Fresher than a star, glowing up in the galaxy
 
 Pagan holidays, are way far from my reality
 
 Far through Evisu jeans, lethal green
 
 Oliver peoples shades when I creep through Queens
 
 With no AKs, I'm the ambassador
 
 Robin Hood in the Aston Mart.
 
 Lotta blood gonna splash in war
 
 Task force homicide, federalies gonna arrest
 
 But y'all ain't never seen nothing
 
 Not a word not a hint, on the kid from the Project Bench
 
 That went Sony-BMG, to that new conglomerate
 
 Island Def Jam, guess how many dollars was spent
 
 To get the best man, yall niggaz ain't silencing shit
 
 Ya bench been wanna police the dick
 
 The big Benz, Imma model ya chick
 
 Was that posing, cash froze her
 
 Cats stroke her, once I smash it's over
 
 Cold like ice, more chains than slaves
 
 Dangerous ways, Poltergeist change the channel
 
 Roll the dice, I bring change when I gamble
 
 I could sell sand to a Arab, hot and my gun handle
 
 
 
 [Chorus]
 
 
 
 [Nas]
 
 The ill whip pusher, my spit wet ya
 
 If you stand close to the woofer
 
 Betcha get sprayed by my lecture
 
 Any club with ladies or dimes, I'm a regular
 
 Give it up smooth, I ain't beggin ya
 
 Intelligent brainiac, brains maniac
 
 Back of the Maybach, taste that, don't waste that
 
 Eat with my elbows top of the table
 
 Street etiquette with speech impediments
 
 And s'til see presidents, no matter who paid
 
 Cause you ain't take the last dollar made
 
 Long as they keep printing it, there's chances of getting it
 
 Money's my bitch, and we stay intimate
 
 Ask about Nashwan, could ask about Jung
 
 Ask about Bravehearts, and ask where I'm from
 
 Q Boro, specifically The Bridge
 
 Don't ask no more question, ya know what it is
 
 
 
 [Chorus]
 
 
 
 [Nas]
 
 Whether chrome sparking or loan sharking
 
 Busting rachets or numbers rackets or drug traffic
 
 My funds are wrapped up, no concerns who has what
 
 Financer, skull doo wrapped up
 
 Mob life, prizefights, plasma tvs or first floor
 
 Diversified all my circle
 
 Amid the most sickest groom the proof swiftness
 
 Numero uno, annuit to wet this
 
 That's the language of our Latin ancestors
 
 On the back of a dollar, the plan and the message
 
 In the Rolls Royce like the King of Nigeria
 
 My criteria, smoke cigars
 
 Change rap like Jimi Hendrix changed Rock And Roll
 
 With a broke guitar, diamonds flashing
 
 Almost put a million cash in, in my mommy casket
 
 Seen more green than St. Patrick-trick
 
 
 
 [Chorus]
 
 29115>
 |