* actual song, not an intro or skit



Intro: nas



Yo check this shit out, this is escobar

Out here chillin' with my nam, dj clue

Ya know what i'm sayin'?, the boss of the bosses

King of the tapes

No doubt, queens finest yaknawhamean

The boss of the bosses and ya listening to dj clue

Number one



Uhhh, uh huh

Uh huh, uhhh

Ya'll cats ain't ready for the firm

Canivin' niggas, that's right

Get the dough da da

Uhh, uh huh

Brooklyn shit



Verse one: foxy brown



All ya hoes wanna stop my chips

Stare bitches down when i rock my whips

Knowin' that you hate me on the low, pop block my dick

Stick me for the ice on my whips

Keeps the chrome fifths, make you so sick

Ya'll hoes give me honestly, no choice but to chick

'ficially firm, no extra shit

No surprises, no diguises, no fox's, lil' nas's

Strickly fam fam, az, 'mega

Na na, nas esco forever

While ya'll hoes is in a rage, ain't no tamin' ya'll

Ya still a young bitch, and i'm shamin' ya'll

Mad cause they know no click plain to ya'll

And ya'll hoes is like "fuck me", the same to ya'll

Ya really ain't got no time to play games wit' ya'll

And if i feel like shittin' on ya'll, i'm namin' ya'll

I'm soundin' kind of harsh, please ignore me

Not to stop the rhyme flow - but ya'll mix tapes shorty (uh)

Nerve of ya'll hoes tryin' to gel me

And uh, ya broke bitch what the fuck ya tryin' to tell me?



Chorus (nas)



Where ya where ya where ya where ya where ya where ya

Where ya...

Where ya at nigga?



Verse two: nas



The boss of the bosses

Rhymes in my mind like it's pearls and oysters

Jewels, you dell, cause we bail in porsches

Of course it's, the firm

This court is ajurned, my thoughts is to burn

Ya'll lil' nas's, middle guys's, mouthin' off

I want to speak to ya leaders, we roll to smoke cheeber

I shoot 'em in my two seater

Yo he's the worst clown, the jamie foxx with his first album

Verse rounds, if ya made it what it takes to stay paid

I'm in the tre tre, double low, cause uh

Guzzlin' dom, twist on my 'dro, my drugs yo

Glistenin' arm, rollin' platnuim, like my recrods

My wallet be mad brollick, from queensbridge projects

To hollies, stay real like calm stockings

Hoes lovin' the dick, i smother my wrists

To remind me of the days i was nuttin' like this

I used to bust a nut on my fists, imagining

It was some lip, suckin' my dick

Now i'm handcuffin' my chicks, yours too

Layin' back, gettin' the or-al

In the back with the 4 too, zero

Ya'll better respect black deniro, have ya crew grab for mereo

Of ya face with a halo, on ya building

On ya block where ya stay yo, in ya career, niggas like

"remember him?" "yeah", niggas fucked with esco

The emporer, thought i might have passed ya crist

Yo a nigga pass you piss, made a raw move

Now that nigga's ass is his', we the firm baby boys

Ya'll some pacifists

Kick the facts about real life and death situations

Mack with real ice rings, breath tkin'

See me floss with whores, double ways and doors

The crew pa pa, commishoner style and boo za za

Gatherin' thoughts up inside the 12 bedroom casa

Lit cigars on the way to see the opera

Up in the balcony with the one lensed bin-acular

Black and white tuxes, black hustlers

Fuck wit' us, firm business, let's discuss this....



Outro: nas



Wha wha wha, the firmilie

L-e-s wha, wha wha wha

Ha ha, ha ha ha ha

Ha ha, norie, ha ha

Qb, brook-lyn, the don

We run new york

Ya cock blockin', skinny ugly...fuckin'...

Phoney lookin' bald headed, half way...afro ways havin'

Phoney rhymin'...copy cattin' fake dick lickin' bitches

What's the dealy? uhh


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