[Hook x2: Nas] 'Come Take a Ride' you can fit up in my two-seater Nas a thug you can catch me in my wife beater Blowin' my drugs you know how I like the cheeba-cheeba And if you hatin' and I prolly don't like it either [Nas:] Fresh dressed like a million bucks Threw on my black jeans and Timberland Chucks I got some moneys in my pockets got some money to spend Got some hoochies I'ma hook up wit quarter to ten My daughter wit me and we came from the mall Don't need no baby mama drama Kissed her on the cheek and dropped her back off I hit the car wash at half past four Some kid was star struck I pulled off my grass and let 'em puff sour My deuce-deuce rims shinin' happy as they can be I went to the famous Project that they call QB I saw some brothers gamblin' on the curb A shorty pulled a pistol took they paper, nigga that's my word I turned the corner wit my burner and palm Niggaz know my name and game I'm a murderous Don Saw my peoples then extended my arm Pulled on the sidewalk, no time to talk If y'all comin' come on; come on! [Hook x2: Nas] [Nas:] Talk like a champion, walk like a champion Body like a God and I promise that Nas'll a hit you off Flow like a gangsta, brum bum bum bum bum Bustin' black dummies and dustin' all y'all niggaz off I've been around a couple of times, know how things go I dealt wit 'em all on different occasion The same things'll come in different stages So when them things rise up or pop up I look right past as if its weightless Meanin' it won't intervene the thought process So I can levitate to more important topics Laughin' the Face of Death, flash back of car crashes 20 L's Grey Goose vodka and tall glasses Dippin' in the twilight Wit gangsta smokin' weed in my ride light The same stuff is still a bitch livin' like I'm rich Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars come on [Hook x2: Nas] [Nas:] Slow like I robbed Brinks truck, haters all fold Cuz my .9 is aimed up, I left four seasons My niggaz bleedin' cause of four reasons Jealousy, hate, laziness and envy even Up in the Benzie squeezin' a couple Henny wit my comrad Conversatin' on what we believe in Like honey in the way she's been cause he's spend G's a week in the make freak knees bend I told her to pimp hard, see the hoes we left in the room They nymphomaniacs prolly lick homegirls womb As respect just phone 'em and leave 'em & shit They not your wife keep your cash nigga don't even trip Pass the grass accordingly, you saw police But when I puffed and coughed Seconds later screamin' "Fuck the Lord" Got CD's, TV's, guns tucked in the floor Once again I hit the streets and y'all don't see no more So uh... [Hook x5: Nas]