Nas Lyrics

Album: Unknown

Made You Look (Remix) Lyrics

(feat. Jadakiss, Ludacris)

 [Intro: Jadakiss]

 I need it from the top, AHHH!

 This is history baby

 Commissioner Steve Stoute, Lenny - ha!

 God's Son, whattup?

 D-Block, whattup?

 Bravehearts, whattup? Yeah

 Yeah, yo

 

 [Verse One: Jadakiss]

 Yo ain't nothin but trouble God

 When I kick in the door with D-Block, Bravehearts and the Double R

 Don't make me let the machine off

 This is methadone music that you can lean off

 "Made You Look," the remix with me up on it

 I copped your shit, now I break weed up on it

 And everything is real I see

 Like my niggaz that been home but they only got a jail ID

 I helped the game, it ain't help me

 I'm top five dead or alive and that's just off one LP

 And, I still buzz, they feel cuz

 Cause they know the flow's Ill just like Will was

 I'm just tryin to make sure that my sons wealthy

 Out of shape but I make sure that my guns healthy

 I'm a ape, you can't stand 'Kiss

 Comin through the hood in a Aston Vanguish the color of dandruff

 They said we jumped him, I just let the gun snuff him

 Copped P then turboed soon as they uncuff him

 This goes out to all of your mans

 Why put you in the verse when I can put in a coroner van

 D-Block

 

 [Chorus 2X: Nas]

 THEY SHOOTIN! Ah made you look

 You a slave to a page in my rhyme book

 Gettin big money, playboy your time's up

 Where them gangsters, where them dimes at?

 

 [Verse Two: Ludacris]

 Yuh, woo! It's time to go, Luda let's go!

 

 I'm from the school of hard knocks, sneak peeks and low blows

 Where X's mark spots and kitchens mark O's

 Where love is gon' getcha and hate is gon' snitch ya

 And fingers squeeze triggers like boa constrictors

 It's the, Mr. Luda, Jada and Nas

 And our bullets give you a deep tissue massage

 So hear a song and dance while I make these ends

 You never stood half a chance like Siamese Twins

 AHHH - THEY SHOOTIN, look in the barrel

 Then he made the front page of the Miami Herald

 or Chi. Tribune, nozzles with silent doom

 We in that A-Town Journal-list, filed with goons

 You should print my information, quote my rhyme

 And keep me in between these New York and L.A. Times

 I was the victim of society, it's 'Cris the menace

 With mo' shit out on the streets than evicted tenants

 WOOOOOOOO!

 

 [Chorus]

 

 [Interlude: Nas]

 Uhh.. uhh..

 (BRAVE-HEARTS.. BRAVE-HEARTS.. BRAVE-HEARTS.. BRAVE-HEARTS..)

 Jungle, Wiz, Nashawn!

 We got 'em scared look

 We got 'em scared they runnin

 

 [Verse Three: Nas]

 Yo, I grasp the ratchet, the blinker, the biscuit, the burner

 The heat, the toaster, the twister you meetin your owner

 The banger, the hammer, the flamers I aim at the cannons

 and can ya, manhandlin ya, you'll be famous like cancer do

 And cut, that's the end of your movie

 Pretendin you actin like you and your mens'll come shoot me

 My tennis shoes Gucci, old school pea soup green

 Jean Lee suit on Beaver, clicko champagne

 Friday the 13th my CD drop, I rhyme to more Base than EZ Rock

 I'm Jason, call up P.D. watch

 them Bravehearts, Jungle and Wiz and Nashawn

 Ill Will rasta Lake, never revealin his face on

 TV or pictures or even them niggaz

 Sorry that I made you wait long, glad them fakes gone

 [beat scratches out]

 WE SHOOTIN! Squeezin them triggers with Luda beside me

 Me and 'Kiss get Luniz of weed, set to Styles P.

 Tell him hold his head, God's Son got him we made y'all look

 From San Quentin to Riker's Island to.. [fades out]