Instrumenter
Ensembles
Genres
Komponister
Udøvende kunstnere

Tekster: Nas. The Lost Tapes. U Gotta Love It.

Real conversation for that
(It's what they want)
Huh
(It's what they want)
What you say, can't hear you man
(It's what they want)
Speak the fuck up
(It's what they want)
What?
(It's what they want)

Nostradamus, [Incomprehensible], know when I rep
Flow when I'm set, I got the chips to make a lotus my whip
Gold on my neck was once a code of respect
For high rollers and vets

Now it's loads of baguettes, prefer over
No matter sober or wet, I smack soldiers, cadets
Trees that might eject my hype back
Famous phrase "Like that"

You've ask you where your ice at, dun
It's all about playboys, when we was young
Can only get tongue, then finally we can could come
Busting in, guzzling 4s

Blitz, '86, you turn hustling pro
From bottles to seven in your hand
To fake Pepsi's to get to the, unscrew the can
Gleam, seeing 100s, stacks of boy with a lean on it

We've got it if the fiends want it
The whole block singing the same theme "Don it"
Fuck it, too many crabs in the bucket
If it's ice work, I'm gonna truck it, you gotta love it

(It's what they want)
(It's what they want)
You gotta love it
(It's what they want)
(It's what they want)
You gotta love it

(It's what they want)
(It's what they want)
You gotta love it
(It's what they want)
(It's what they want)
(It's what they want)

Some girls get too emotional, fanatic extremist
Get pulsive with malice insentitives, the foulest of
Hung up my riches, her childest wishes
Be suspicious of those sleeping with fishes, them

Conspicuous and it shows
Tricking this dough
Kicking this flow, slip in a new fo'
So when your click roll, I let my go

On opposite polls
I got that confident soul
For those locked in a hole
Inhumane, living hostile opposed

To living on the streets
Proper from my top to my toes
Aeropostale my clothes
Vernon in suburbans with liquor

Preposterous foes, frantically foul
See in blast, there goes a loud difference
Sniffing, tapping 13 year old chickens
You can't be a kingpin when you snitching

Regardless, we still make you a target
We shoot you and chill, chrome objects
Hit you in your own projects, it's street anomics
This rhyme is edited, credited through ebonics

Miserable cats, hunger painting
Get off your ass, stop complaining
My crew be in Montego Bay margariting, marinating
While you home, waiting your arraignment

This thug life you claimed it
I make millions from entertainment
Now back in the hood, certain cats they wanna me
They ice grill me, but on the low, just feel me, you gotta love it

(It's what they want)
You gotta love it
(It's what they want)
(It's what they want)
You gotta love it

(It's what they want)
(It's what they want)
You gotta love it
(It's what they want)
(It's what they want)
(It's what they want)

It's what they want
It's what they want
It's what they want
It's what they want