Nas - Got Ur Self a Gun lyrics

Woke up this mornin' (yeah)
You got yourself a gun (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Got yourself a gun

Yo, I'm livin' in this
Time behind enemy lines, so
I got mine, I hope you got yourself a gun
You from the hood
I hope you got yourself a gun
You want beef? Hope you got yourself a gun
And when I see you, I'ma take what I want, so
You tried to front
Hope you got yourself a gun
You ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun

My first album had no
Famous guest appearances
The outcome, I'm crowned the best lyricist
Many years on this professional level
Why would you question who's better?
The world is still mine


Tattoo's real, with "God's Son"
Across the belly, the boss of rap
You saw me in Belly with thoughts like that
To take it back to Africa
I did it with Biggie
Me and 2Pac were soldiers
Of the same struggle
You lames could huddle, your team's shook
Y'all feel the wrath of a killer
'cause this is my football field
Throwin' 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 all soft
And I'm the black hearse that came
To haul y'all ass in
It's for the hood by the corner store
Many try, many die, come at Nas
If you want a war, get it bloody

I got mine, I hope you got yourself a gun
You from the hood
I hope you got yourself a gun
You want beef? Hope you got yourself a gun
And when I see you, I'ma take what I want, so
You tried to front
Hope you got yourself a gun
You ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun
Yo

I'm the N, the A to the S-IR
And if I wasn't, I must've been Escobar
You know the kid got his chipped tooth fixed
Hair parted with a
Barber's preciseness, Bravehearted for life
It's return of the golden child
Son of a blues player so who are you
Player? Y'all awaited the true savior
Puffin' that tropical, cups of that vodka
Too
Papi chu's, tore up, wake up in a hospital
Throw up? Never
'member I do this through righteous steps
You Judas thought I was gone
So in light of my death
Y'all been all happy-go-lucky
Bunch of sambos
Call me God's Son with my pants low
I don't die slow
Put them rags up like Petey Pablo
This is NASDAQ though, in my Nascar
With this Nas flow
What could beat that? Not a soul reppin'
Hit the record store, never let me
Go, get my whole collection, yo

I got mine, I hope you got yourself a gun
You from the hood
I hope you got yourself a gun
You want beef? Hope you got yourself a gun
And when I see you, I'ma take what I want, so
You tried to front
Hope you got yourself a gun
You ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun

It's the return of the prince, the boss
This is real hardcore
Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit soft
Sip Cris', get chips, wrist glist', I floss
Stick shift look sick up
In that Boxster Porsche
With the top cut off
Rich kids go and cop The Source
They don't know about the blocks I'm on
And everybody wanna know where the kid go
Where he rest at
Where he shop at and dress at
Know he got dough, where does he live? Is he
Still in the Bridge?
Does he really know how ill that he is?
Got all of y'all watchin' my moves
My watch and my jewels
Hop in my coupe, dodge interviews like that
It's not only my jewels, ice anything
Plenty chains
Look at my tennis shoes, I iced that
Who am I? The back twister, lingerie ripper
Automatic leg-spreader, quicker brain-getter
Keepin' it gangsta with ya (Uh)

I got mine, I hope you got yourself a gun
You from the hood
I hope you got yourself a gun
You want beef? Hope you got yourself a gun
And when I see you, I'ma take what I want, so
You tried to front
Hope you got yourself a gun
You ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun

Got yourself a gun (Uh)
I got mine, I hope you got yourself a gun
You from the hood
I hope you got yourself a gun
You want beef? Hope you got yourself a gun
And when I see you, I'ma take what I want, so
You tried to front
Hope you got yourself a gun
You ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun