Watch Dem Niggas

[Produced by Trackmasters] [Verse 1: Nas] They never realized how real Nas is so decisive It's just the likeness of Isrealites mist that made me write this A slight twist of lime rhyme, be chasing down your primetime Food for thought or rather mind wine The Don Juan features the freak shit, my thesis On how we creep quick, fucking your wife that ain't so secret It's mandatory see that pussy, they hand it to me I got no game it's just some bitches understand my story There ain't no drama that my nigga's never handle for me My gator brand is Mauri, walking through rough land before me Where the snakes put a smile on they face Hoping and praying I'm stuck Scoping they lay in the cut, weighing my luck Player haters play this in cell blocks and rock stages Winking at some females cops with cocked gauges Really it's papers I'm addicted to Wasn't for rap then I'll be sticking you The mag inside the triple goose Face down on the floor's the routine Don't want hear nobody blow steam Just cream or it's a smoke screen Imagine that, that's why I hardly kick the bragging raps I zone, to each his own and this ghetto inhabitant [Hook x2: Nas and Foxy Brown] Watch dem niggas that be close to you And make sure they do what they supposed to do Cause you know they be thinking about smoking you Never personal, nowadays, it's the ways [Verse 2: Nas] Now how can I perfect this Living reckless, die for my necklace Crime infected, driving a Lexus with a death wish Jetting, checking my message on the speaker Bopping to Mona Lisa brown reefer, ten G's, gun and my Visa CD cranking, doing ninety on the Franklin-D-Roosevelt No seat belt, drinking and thinking My man caught a bad one son, niggas is frightened Secret indictments, as on to one seeking enlightment My Movado says seven, the God hour that's if you follow Traditions started by the school not far from the Apollo My Fuck Tomorrow motto through the eyes of Pablo Escobar, the desperado, word to Cus D'Amato [Hook] [Verse 3: Nas] Some niggas watch you See you when you think on the low Ain't hard to spot you, you swore to keep it real after you blow Three keys, new V's, went to Anguilla with your ho Stayed around the hood, smoothest cat getting the dough Them old timers, advise you to them problems that's ahead Drama with the Feds, not listening just bobbing your head Your Roley shining, thinking to yourself nobody's taking mine At the same time your ho is getting snatched from behind Put in the van, where's the hundred grand, script in her hand From all the ice, wouldn't you know You knew these niggas all your life What made them mark you victim You fucked up somehwere down the line Now they had to target your Wisdom She took em to your place, straight to your safe You doubted it could happen sick of yapping Dump in your ride, headed to your side Puffin ganja get to your crib, can't find her Just a reminder shouldn't have your stash house where you crash out Coulda passed out, your coke was gone, now you assed out Dead bitches tell no lies, you should use your eyes [Hook]