Got Yourself A Gun Lyrics - Stillmatic - Nas

Woke up this morning [yea] 

Ya Got Yourself a Gun [yea yea yea] 

Got Yourself a Gun 

Yo Im living in this time behind enemy lines so 

[Chorus] 

I got mine, I hope ya (got yourself a gun) 

You from the hood I hope ya (got yourself a gun) 

You want beef hope ya (got yourself a gun) 

And when I see you Im a take what I want so, 

You try to front hope ya (got yourself a gun) 

You ain't real hope ya (got yourself a gun) 

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My first album had no famous guest appearances 

The outcome, Im crowned the best lyricist 

Many years on this professional level 

What would you question whose better 

The World is still mine 

Tattoos real with Gods son across the belly 

The boss of rap he saw me in Belly with thoughts like that 

They take it back to Africa, I did it with Biggie 

Me and Tupac were soldiers of the same struggle 

You lanced a huddle you came shooked 

Y'all feel the rap of a killer 

Cause this is my football field 

Throwing passes from a barrel 

Shoulder pads apparel 

But the QB don't stand for no quarterback 

Every word is like a sawed off blast 

Cause y'all soft and Im the black hurst 

That came to hall y'all ass in 

This for the hood by the corner store 

Many try, many die 

Come at Nas if you wanna war get it bloody 

Photos 

[Chorus] 

Yo Im the "N" the "A" to the "S" "I" "R" 

And if I wasn't I must've been escabar 

You know the kid got his chipped tooth fixed 

Hair parted with the barbers preciseness 

Brave hearted for life is return of the golden child 

Son of a blues player so who are you playa 

Ya waited the truth saviour 

Puffin that tropical, cups of that vodka too 

Poppy choose to' up to wake up in a hospital 

Throw up never, 'member I do this through righteous steps 

You Judas thought I was gone so when Ima light up my death 

Ya been all happy, go lucky bunch of 

Samboos call me godson with my pants low 

I don't die slow put them rags up like Petey Pablo 

This is NASDAQ dough in my Nas car with this Nas flow 

Who could beat that not a soul reppin 

Hit the record store never let me go 

Get my whole collection, Yo 

[Chorus] 

It's the return of the prince to bars 

This is real hardcore 

Kid Rock and Limp Bizkits soft 

Sip Chris get chicks risks wrists I floss 

Stick shift look stick up in that box that Porsche 

With the top cut off rich kids goin cop the source 

They all know about the blocks Im on 

And everybody wanna know where the kid go 

Where he rest at, where he shop at, and dress at 

You know we got dough, where does he live 

Is he still in the bridge, does he really know how ill he is? 

Got all of ya watching my moves, my watch, and my jewels 

Hop in ma coop, dodge interviews like that 

Its not only ma jewels, ice anything plenty chains 

Look at my tennis shoes are iced at 

Who am I, the back twister, lingerie ripper 

Automatic leg spreader put the brain getter 

Keepin it gangsta widja 

[Chorus] 

Got Yourself a Gun 

[Chorus]