Nas

Nas - Zone Out lyrics

(feat. Bravehearts)

Braveheart for life

[sample - repeated 8x "Z-z-z-zone Out"]

So y'all wit me? Yea, What, Yea

Why don't y'all blast on these niggas, man

Tuck in your chain put your watch in your pocket

Here come the Braveheart straight out the projects

We live the life where the blood spills

Same thing that get you cats nigga, get you killed

Warnin', Jungle always keep a gun on him

Pull out, {*shooting sound*}, four head gone 'n

Sloppy, droppin' you birds

Close range so my bullets don't swerve, curve

No bullshit

Back in ya hand, find me

Call Earl, death is the ways of the world

Y'all made criminals

Tryin' to wild out there so crack, bust guns at Bow Wow's age

Fightin' in jail, lookin' for heaven, livin' in hell

Fuckin 'em hos, born to cope since I was 12

Way too foul walk around all the time

With a gray Mack 10 and a pocket full o' dimes

Braveheart to the graveyard, let's go niggas

Scared straight, but FUCK them hos

Keep it, dead serious

Believe it don't believe us, until you see me creepin',

Now you sleep with them fishes

G-W-I-Z, so delicious

To all them ghetto and sober bitches in 'burban districts

I'm movin on passin' chumps, and very thoroughly promoted by God's Son

And this is the military turn it up

My moves erase a ton, your son less thump nah

Heat talk feet walk you run uh

Rat ta-tat, Hear them shots come

Drop son, pull out

You better send 'em back son, or feel that casket

The peeps be like one (one)

I'm movin on passin' chumps, and very thoroughly promoted by God's Son

G-O-D S-O-N I S-O-O-T-H-E a female's estrogen

With my testosterone, male hormone

Enough for a giant's body, science S-C-I-E-N-C-E

Don't tempt me, EMS against you, me I'm just, invincible

Like Mike Jack said, for me and Al Sharpton won't be Broke in Harlem

That's that, who made this style, solo or X

Are you TFO's doctor or Mobb Deep

Whoever, I freaked it yes, so meet ya death

I never wear Esco, I got a New Line comin' like cinemas

Remember the, original, y'all still tryina show niggas are rich

Town house niggas

I'm six cribs deep, six bank accounts in six countries

Na I'm lyin', who gives a fuck that's so tired

While pictures of Bravehearts just livin' it up

A million of us, each nigga inchin' a bus

You got a house in Virginia

The only way you sicker than us

Gettin' bagged with .22's now you's a ridiculous fuck

No need for the gun play, it's ok, 'cause you dyin' anyway

Yo, this is for them Heismann drop outs

Niggas who copped out

If you prefer shots over knockouts

Sniffin' coke, smokin' weed

Sellin' crack, sellin' smack

You thuggin' it, you ain't turn it back

Braveheart's gettin' money ruthless 'till the world end

Gettin' high with my enemy's girlfriend

I used to have a bike on a bench

Now I got a jeep on this trip

Coke in the pot, heat on my head

Nigga dont stop blazin' cuz ya target's movin'

Shoot 'till the gun's empty stupid, Queens

Niggas so ruthless, really excuses is

Useless to these swift executioners

And thats Queensbridge nigga, all day

Pump packs o' crack, smoke purple haze

Runnin from D's quickly knockout rookies

G Wiz you know what I'm all about

To all my real niggas

[sample - repeated until end "Z-z-z-zone Out"]

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