The Black Bond

Nas · Life Is Good [2012]

[Verse 1: Nas]

I pull a string on a lamp and shit darkens

I'm living in an elegant Moroccan apartment

Proletarian chicks sparkin

Convo weak, and I don't really care for her jargon

Balcony is windy, looking at the stars and

I be on the Henny woozy in the head, wobblin

Gucci pillow on the bed while she giving noggin

Listening and tripping off the Maxwell album

Thinking I should leave to a European island

Bristol(?) or Spain I'll bring a book about Stalin

Then I'm serenaded with the violin

But shorty not qualified to be took to that kind of outing

Gotta be a fly bitch to hang around that fly shit

Fine dining, Olive Garden

Nah bitch, Nas is in the real deal food spots on the constant

Pick the right wine, a Chianti to wash it

Lifestyle encompasses top notch watches

Rolexes, synonymous shit I'm coppin

Ask her has she been around duffle bags

Full of that fuck you cash

Get off the jet with me in heels, I'll cup your ass

Lookin in my eyes sayin "Nas, you one lucky bastard"

Grip your clutch, you get finger fucked in the passenger

Hit the Dutch, I blow smoke out, music and laughter

See us in the coupe flying past ya



[Verse 2: Nas]

Esco, dress code, it changes

Herrod's in England

Back to the star spangled labels in my closet hanging

Counting wonder(?) in the tundra

Can't humble (?) the disgruntled when I come through, confront ya

Let nothing slide, sly remarks

You must wanna die, but you frontin wild

When we all know you pumpkin pie

When we in the bus(?) we fly better shit than Emirates

To Dubai, to the Chi(?), I'm a crucial conflict

Heaven sent, cause a storm, typhoon flood you out

You are(?) what a thug about? I'm a fuckin juggernaut

Never sleep, never tire, keep a freak I tie up

Who don't speak, she quiet

So I can think, conspire

On my feet's a ?, and sometimes sneakers

Wear ties at the Setai Miami time-pieces

Are from Zurich. It's like I'm allergic

To non-oxidolic non(?)

Give it to you raw so you can feel it



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Verse 1:

I pull a string on the lamp, that shit darkens

I'm livin' in an elegant Moroccan apartment

Proletarian chicks sparkin'

Convo weak, and I don't really care for her jargon

Balcony is windy, lookin' at the stars and

I be in the Henny, woozy in the head, wobblin'

Gucci pillow on the bed, while she givin' noggin

Listenin' and trippin' off the Maxwell album

Thinkin' I should leave to a European island

(Bristol?) Spain, bring a book about stylin'

Dinner serenaded with a violin

But shorty not qualified to be took to that kind of outing

Gotta be a fly bitch to hang around that fly shit

Fine dining Olive Garden, naw bitch, Nas is

In the real deal, food spots on the constant

Pick the right wine - a Chianti - to wash it

Lifestyle encompasses top-notch watches

Rolexes anonymous shit I'm coppin'

Ask her has she been around duffle bags full of that "fuck you cash"

Get off the jet with me in heels, I'll cup your ass

Looking in my eyes, saying "Nas you're one lucky bastard"

Grip your clutch, you'll get finger fucked in the passenger

I hit the dutch, blow smoke out, music and laughter

See us in the coupe flyin' past ya