Nas]

To my niggaz.. huh..

We all we got..

Let's hold it down though y'know?

However it's gon' go down

This what we gotta deal with y'know?

Yo..



Chorus: Nas



It's the life we chose where friends become foes

and the dough'll get you killed quicker than you know

This is the life we chose bring fake snakes and hoes

and the only way out is death or goin broke

This the life we chose ain't too many happy endings

That's why there ain't too many happy niggaz in it

And I'll admit it, this life is fucked up but yo..

(but yo..) this life is the only life I know {*echoes}



[Nas]

Uhh, uhh, uhh

Gold bathtubs, makin love to my Queen

Get my back rubbed, Chardonnay, rollin up green

Statues, marble floors, rare paintings on my wall

My lifestyle's like the Forbes Magazine

Closets, full of rockets and submachines

Take this nigga out the projects, and his thug team

Yo we cruise past street lights, ill rides

Mr. Child both coasts with the most loud toast

Calicos roast y'all folks, keep y'all dyin

Cause it's hard to fuck around when we dealin with science

My enemies got money, so y'all should watch how I play it

They never know we enemies until they hear me say it

Til they kid's on the phone sayin, "Please daddy pay it"

Til they brain's on the floor, mixed on the pavement

High-class elegance, you respect or you hiss

You go against you'd rather piss on an electrical fence

It's strategic, how these niggaz want you to think

You'd be surprised, who'd be the one to put you to sleep

Why you stink? Yo these streets don't allow you to blink

You get showered by lead, comin out with your mink

Bow ties and tuxedos, bust Eagles

Dump drugs and acid, then they rush with the Rico

It's hard fuckin with niggaz you hope you can trust

You a fool if your main bitch is easy to fuck

And you've got money - is these hoes greedy or what?

Shit is devious, ex-friends wantin you stuck



Chorus



[Nas]

Uhh, what's love when you don't give your man enough dough?

He wanna stick you

What's love, you got beef?

Nobody rollin wit you

What's love, you locked up, and your family don't care

Is love a four-letter word, that deceives the air?

What's real, when you know your man's girl is a hoe

And you don't even let him know, cause you fucked her befo'

What's real, when you talk behind a man's back

then you see him and give him dap, now explain that?

What's trust, when they seperate your case

When you at your court date, your co-de', can't look in your face

What's trust, when you keep your wife away from your man?

And he never crossed you, but you claimin he's fam'?

What's trust, when you get bust, your niggaz don't retaliate?

They blaze purple haze with em the next day?

God forbid one of my niggaz get hit, I'ma go haywire

Won't hesitate, I'ma spray fire

But everybody's different, you won't know how you react

til you in that position, and that's an actual fact

The hearts of men change as time goes on, who's wrong?

You was hungry when you stuck Duke, he came back to buck you

Who's wrong? Foul all your life, now you 90

On your deathbed you regret bein grimy

What's lust, a bust nut? What's a thug?

A ghetto child raised around drugs, til he's old enough to bust slugs?

Then what's jail, to rehabilitate, or to make a nigga worse

when he come home to catch another case?

Life's about decisions, you choose it, you gotta live it

You did it, heaven or hell or prison

Who knows when your clock'll stop tickin, get your weight up

Save up before it's over neighbor, I told ya

You gettin older player, look at those who gave up



Chorus