Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Nas
Nas
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Nas
Nas
Songwriter
Larry Gates
Larry Gates
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Nas
Nas
Producer
Jake Ninan
Jake Ninan
Assistant Engineer
Pablo Arraya
Pablo Arraya
Assistant Engineer
Jason Goldstein
Jason Goldstein
Mixing Engineer
Kevin Crause
Kevin Crause
Recording Engineer
Chris Gehringer
Chris Gehringer
Mastering Engineer
Precision
Precision
Producer

Lyrics

[Intro]
Bis-Mi-Allah A-Rahman A-Rahim (To the Gods)
To the Gods, to the Earths
Pass that shit, homie
[Chorus]
Now tell me, what y'all smokin'?
What kinda heat y'all holdin'?
Well, is your creep move potent?
I got a bunch of bullets in the bag of guns
I pass 'em to my ****, come on
We bi-coastin', keepin' our pockets bulgin'
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets in the bag of guns
I pass 'em to my ****, come on (Uh-huh)
[Verse 1]
Zoom, from outer space he comes
Blunt in his mouth with his hand on his gun
Bitches flappin' they gums, do he be clappin' and shootin' guys?
Actor or a movie star, rapper revolutionized?
What is his race, nation, or creed?
Is he Arabic, Black, Latin, Asian? They read
Magazines say I walked on water, talked to the heavens
Spit at judges, stepped on peasants
But in reality, I just entered your galaxy
September '73, up in these wild streets
Fuckin' these wild freaks, a harem of hoes (Goddamn)
And my mystique got 'em tearin' my clothes
[Chorus]
Now tell me, what y'all smokin'?
What kinda heat y'all holdin'?
Well, is your creep move potent?
I got a bunch of bullets in the bag of guns
I pass 'em to my ****, come on
We bi-coastin', keepin' our pockets bulgin'
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets in the bag of guns
I pass 'em to my ****, come on
[Verse 2]
My **** smoke with one lung
If he cough he might die, passin' me trees
The liquor bottle's almost empty
We about to collide with the enemy
Only way you die if it's meant to be
You fuckin' with a general
No discussion is the principle, we bust and it's the end of you
Now we knockin' on your mama door
Like we came to fix the sink, my kind of war
Death angels coming for you
Spirit horse runnin' from your body like Young Guns 1 and 2
Paramedics fightin' for you, who's gon' win?
The hands of time, or the hands of medicine?
Don't cry, witness your fate, this is your wake
Walk by your casket, spit in your face
Enter the fog, dawg, the light is your guide
And when you're gone all your **** gon' light it with Nas
[Chorus]
Now tell me, what y'all smokin'?
What kinda heat y'all holdin'?
Well, is your creep move potent?
I got a bunch of bullets in the bag of guns
I pass 'em to my ****, come on
We bi-coastin', keepin' our pockets bulgin'
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets in the bag of guns
I pass 'em to my ****, come on
[Verse 3]
Pardon but I gotta question of life now
Look at the **** next to you right now
Is he real, fake or scared?
Do it like this, ****, right hands in the air
Ball it to a fist and put it over your heart
Now let's say it all together, let the ceremony start
I shall stay real, stay true, stay holdin' figures
Never put a bitch over my ****
I shall never cooperate with the law
Never snake me, I'll always hold you down in war
If they take one of mine, I take one of theirs
I never break the oath to the death, I swear
I swear that's how we pledge allegiance to the alliance
Of underworlds, killers and thugs, though the science
Of a **** still yet to be found
So light up some green (Uh-huh)
And pass it around, just pass it around
[Chorus]
Now tell me, what y'all smokin'?
What kinda heat y'all holdin'?
Well, is your creep move potent?
I got a bunch of bullets in the bag of guns
I pass 'em to my ****, come on
We bi-coastin', keepin' our pockets bulgin'
We got the plan in motion
I got a bunch of bullets in the bag of guns
I pass 'em to my ****, come on
[Outro]
Wanna get high, come smoke with me
Smoke with me, light it up
Wanna get high, come smoke with me (Get my fuck on, ****)
Smoke with me, light it up (Y'all **** stay up)
Wanna get high, come smoke with me (Yeah)
Smoke with me, light it up (Uh-huh, come smoke with me)
Wanna get high, come smoke with me (Yeah, yeah, uh)
Smoke with me, light it up (Yeah, yeah, get fucked up)
(Yeah, yeah) Come here, bitch, come smoke with a ****
Written by: Larry Gates, Nas
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