Word
Got some Remy Martin, some good [bad word] cigars
Check it out

Ayo, late night, candlelight, fiend wit’ diesel in his needle
Queensbridge leader, no equal, [bad word] from the Wheel of Ezekiel
To pop thousand-dollar bottles of scotch, smoke purp, and heal the people
Any rebuttal to what I utter get box-cuttered
Count how many bad honeys I [bad word]  it’s a high number
Name a [bad word] under the same sky that I’m under
Who gets money, remain fly, yeah, I wonder
Eyes flutter as love when Nas pops up
Stars get [bad word]  panties start drippin’
The ways of Carlito, blaze, torpedo cigars
Drop moves, drop clothes
Louis the XIII freaks, women nice size
I ride like Porsches, thick, brown and gorgeous
It ain’t my fault, semiautomatic weapons
I brought the world “Crazy,” I’m rich and I’m girl-crazy
 [bad word] ‘em, convince ‘em all to praise me
They ideology is confusion, I lose ‘em
Fellates me, who hate me? My gun off safety
Since the Tunnel and Skate Key, my jewelry in HD

Silent rage, pristine in my vintage shades
I’m not in the winters of my life or the beginner stage, I am the dragon
Maserati, bumpin’ Biggie, the great legend
Blastin’, I’m after the actress who played Faith Evans
My little Jackie Onassis, dig?
I’m so high, I never land like Mike Jackson’s crib
Best on .45, still crack ya rib sacrilege
When lids talk trash about the nasty kid
Past nasty now, I’m gross and repulsive
Talk money, is you jokin’? Cash everywhere, in my bank, in the sofa
In the walls, in the cars, in my wallet, in my pocket
On the floors, ceiling, the safe, [bad word] 
I got all you envy, but don’t offend
I’m skinny, but still I’m too big for a Bentley
You are your car, what could represent?
Too Godly to be a Bugatti, you honestly
Must design me somethin’ Tommy Mottonic from Queens had before the ’90s
 [bad word] dealer [bad word] to the bar
Move, niggas, we don’t give a [bad word] who you are
Black card heavy like a magnet, in my stitched denims
Pretty women see them them saggin’
Bet a hundred stacks, [bad word] it back
Just havin’ fun, I ain’t even begun to black
Light another blunt in fact

(Nasty)
Nasty kid
(Nasty)
Yeah
(Nasty)
The kid!
(Nasty)
Nasty kid

For the hustlers, thick as yellow [bad word] for the suck of it
Got a bunch of niggas in prison braggin’, sayin’ “It was Nas I used to hustle wit’”
I display fashions while my lungs engage hashes, guns on my waist past his
Since I’m cakin’ up, put funds in my safe, laughin’
And joining the niggas passin’ you niggas was straight assin’
Excuse the vulgarity, I’m still not fully adjusted
Or used to the new fans hearin’ me spit rapidly
I never see the whips niggas be claimin’ they drivin’
I guess entertainment means blatantly lyin’
Fake it ’til you make it, I’ve driven those toys
Been in the wars, in the streets, cops kickin’ in doors
For my deen niggas, your flow cheap as limousine liquor
I’m no fake rap CD listener, sit back and roll a mean swisher
For my Gs, tell these clowns make room for the king, [bad word]