made you look lyrics


Reach for chrome, to each his own Yeah, and you already know how this story ends My reflection talk back to me, my mirror cool Sinking low in the seats of a GTO like a pimp I know about the streets because I played the crook Skipped a year, needed time to fucking comprehend But I ain't Five-O, y'all know it's Nas-Yo I'm nice, uh, like slightly generous villain is I've reached my peak without me looking through my hands Spittin' hot shit out your mouth like redheads That's a miracle like the wicked queen with a tricky scheme

Where them dimes at? I send work out to Georgia, it's all peachy though Infinite amount of rounds in this mighty pen Don't get it mixed up, just so we clear without being EQ My bars raw like a condom strike Cause he a snitch like everyy nigga in a cop show Getting money, quiet to the feds, to the fiber out my diet They wrote my name over the top, nothing extra On my baby mama life, pussies fuck with the bread In a white tee lookin' for wifey

You grew up with it but ain't never beat Wayne Baller convention, free admission [Verse 4: King Los] [Verse 5: Cassidy] A moment of silence for Prodigy

I lay you out, show you what steel do Came and blew hair like she seen larger screens I'm like new Adolf Mengele, I have to cut that foreign Where them gangstas? They shoot me, should be my theme song Maybach Benz, back seat, T.V. For your knees, and shit like toiletries Shit was all good just a week ago You in fourth place if we enforce ranking Time out, you need to find out how much your casket cost I jizz all over your sandwich, and whiz all over the cameras

Unless you past the presence of pastors blessings Put her in the coupe so she can feel the nice breeze Ladies lookin' for athletes or rappers Word to Yah, word to Ra, word to the horizon Ultraviolent saga, Alex, high-five Coke's all white, you think it was bleached by Ichigo Then I get back to droppin' gems like how we doin' Bejeweled, nigga I'm not a fan of writing and I'm scared of ghosts slim [?] A lot of people couldn't leave the streets alone My bro has just drove up with a whole truck Swing around like you stupid, king o'the town, yeah I been that Get out my face, you people so phoney / This is history, baby / Commissioner Steve Stoute / Lenny, ha! Lyrics to Made You Look by Nas from the Hip Hop Forever, Vol. You couldn't be the man, if they put you on the stand

Lemme feel how the head is Girls get close, you can feel where the tool's kept Daylyt thought I was fronting, I wasn't under pressure

Is their measuring stick, yes, I'm the ruler, Crooked. Pac’s saliva landed on my camera, that’s the way my canon spit, sounds more appropriate according to the reference of spitting… it plays double. Get my dick sucked and calm myself with the violence It's kinda like ever rhyme I write dope, Chyna white So that I have a chance to duplicate the Scarface If everybody at your job broke You don't want to see no ambulances A real nigga but he still got popped though

Then I turned into Happy Days for all the chachis who tried to block

While y'all talkin' to goons, poppin' all that tough shit to come get you Especially when you a pussy like The L Word, word

This the I test, I guess, I am Proof I ain't know a hard nigga could be this soft Hustle hard everyday saying fuck to problems I'm getting my dick licked by thick bitch [?] Each line I jot between got bodies that rot, call the SWAT regime A team of killer MCs kill everything in sight, Welcome to Detroit I'm grinding white, Madonna white, hit me (if) you tryna find the white .357, that's the way my hammer click 3.5.7 was part of Hammer's clique They shootin', Aw made you look All my bitches get to the chicken, they paper long Too Biblical for the lyrical So I hold the llama tight, send you to Satan or Christ You wasn't comin' out the house yet Made you look, kill your darlings in cold blood It's time to bring the classic rap shit back, muh'fucka You're an erect bum that haven't grown a pair And make payments till I make arrangements to clap it off Either that or they in the pen with new sneakers on If you jealous then I get the stick and clap you, kid They shootin'! Only describe us as soldier survivors

Made You Look (Remix) Lyrics: I need it from the top / Ahh! Some cats rob folk and they still starve 'cause the niggas that they rob broke I'm on the right page because I laid the book Aw, made you look Known the yayo I'm selling 'em, no melanin I want to slit your wrists, I want to cut my face You a slave to a page in my rhyme book A lot of my people know Made You Look Lyrics: It's time to bring the classic rap shit back, muh'fucka / Yo / Journey through the dark side, get the fuck up! Like a real thoroughbred is, show me love Y'all ain't remotely close tryna channel the hope That make scrambled data appear in formation I bust on you dickheads like when the condom tight My girl made a small wonder and I filmed it on an Android plasma You fuckin' with the king of the punchline [Hook: Nas (x2)] Guess how anxious I become when I mix these words? At Jay for that line in "22 Two's," couso I'll take a bullet for my man I dreamt my wife had a black boy I ain't known gettin' shot was a badge of honor Make your predator sound regular after this (Turtles!) And when I did, I dry-humped the cameltoe That I ghost busters, I don't mean paranormal detectives You a slave to a page in my rhyme book Talking eastside shit on the speakerphone Just die, I digress, I digest information Flipping out 'cause the pistol's mouth Cuttin' to reporters getting camera time on the air Beat the shit out your loved ones, let 'em bleed there So I'm 'bout to roll up like taking off the condom right The phrase heavenly, make melodies change energy You don't even know the plug from the outlet

Watch, I escaped the botchery, it's sticky situations like Hibachi in Huaraches
You better abandon ship, the predator anarchist Through electromagnetic compulsive verbal aesthetic Listen, y'all got it twisted, dreadheads I beat the shit out your piñata, choke my Nikes with necklace Hustlers, dealers and killers can move swift Venomous Christmas, beginners get wind of this winning penmanship

[Verse 2] Take the mask off, played to death: I am Future
But that's what you get wastin' em Not a biter, you fly on the web and I'm a spider You stepping on 'S Angeles, expecting an ambulance Dickhead on some shit, that's a rectum, with the boner there

My word so bond, if I proceed to go home [?]

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