Nas - Gotta Luv It Lyrics

What you say? Can't hear you, man
Speak the fuck up (It's what they want) Word
(It's what they want)

Nastradamus, skama lit, know when I rep
Flow when I'm set
I got the chips to make a Lotus my whip
Gold on my neck was once a code of respect
For high rollers and vets
Now it's loads of baguettes
Prefer a Mac-10 over a Tec
No matter sober or wet
I smack soldier cadets
Trees that might eject my hype back
Famous phrase "Nigga, light that"
Hoes you fuck ask you: 'Where your ice at
Dunn?'
It's all about Playboys when we was young
Could only get tongue
Then finally we could cum
Busting in hoes, guzzling 4's
Crack blitz, '86, you turn hustling pro
From bottles, to seven in your hand
To fake Pepsi's, to get to the crack
Unscrew the can gleam blunted, seeing 100's
Stacks of boy with a lean on it
We got it if the fiends want it
The whole block singing the
Same theme "Don it"
Fuck it, too many crabs in the bucket
If it's ice work, I'm gon' truck it
You gotta love it, you gotta love it

(It's what they want) Fuck it
You gotta love it (It's what they want
Huh? It's what they want)
Fuck it, you gotta love it
(It's what they want, huh?) Fuck it
You gotta love it

Some girls get too emotional
Fanatic extremist
Compulsive, with malice incentives
The foulest of bitches
Hunger my riches, her childish wishes
Be suspicious of those sleeping with fishes
Them hoes
Conspicuous and it shows, tricking this dough
Kicking this flow, slip and you fold
So when your clique roll, I let my clips go
Niggas on opposite poles
I got that confident soul
For those locked in a hole
Inhumane, living hostile opposed
To living on the street
Proper from my top to my toes
Aeropostale my clothes
Vernon niggas in Suburbans with liquor
Preposterous foes, finicky foul niggas
See niggas and blacks
There goes a loud difference
Coke sniffing, tapping 13-year-old chickens
You can't be a kingpin when you snitching
Regardless, we still make you a target
We shoot you in jail, chrome objects
Hit you in your own projects
It's street-onomics this rhyme is edited
Credited through ebonics
Miserable cats, hunger paining
Get off your ass, stop complaining
My crew be in Montego Bay Macarena-ing
Marinating, while you home
Waiting your arraignment
This thug life you claimed it
I make millions from entertainment
Now back in the hood, certain cats
They wanna kill me
They ice grill me, but on the low
Niggas feel me you gotta love it

Fuck it, you gotta love it
(It's what they want, huh?)
Fuck it, you gotta love it
(It's what they want)
Fuck it, you gotta love it
(It's what they want, huh?)
(It's what they wantit's what they want)