Got Ur Self A Gun (Live at Webster Hall, NYC - Dec. 17, 2002)

New York City put your guns up like this

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)

Who want beef now? (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)

They ain't real (got yourself a gun)

Check it out ya'll

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 BIG

Me and 2Pac (same struggle)

You lames a huddle, your team's shook

Y'all feel the wrath of a (killer), 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, they all soft

I'm the black hearse that came to haul y'all ass in

This for the hood by the corner (store)

Many try, many (die), come at Nas if you want a war, get it bloody

Yeah, what up New York?

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

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

Who want beef now? (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)

They ain't real (got yourself a gun)

(Yeah, what's your motherfucking name?)

I'm the N, the A to the S-I-R

If I wasn't (I must've been Escobar)

You know the kid got his chipped tooth fixed

(Barber's preciseness, Bravehearted)

The return of the golden child, son of a blues player

So who are you? Y'all awaited the true (savior)

Puffin' that tropical, cups of that vodka, too

Papi chu's, tore up (show up in a hospital)

Throw up? Never, now I do it through righteous steps

Judas thought I was gone, so in light of my (death)

They been all happy-go-lucky, bunch of sambos

Call me "God's son"

I don't die slow, put them rags up New York

This is NASDAQ though, in my

With this Nas flow what could beat that? Not a soul (reppin')

Hit the record store, never let me, get my whole collection, yeah

(What up New York?)

I got mine (got yourself a gun)

You from the hood (got yourself a gun)

Who want beef now? (Got yourself a gun)

And when I see you I'ma take what I

So you tried to front, hope you (got yourself a gun)

They ain't real (got yourself a gun)

Check it out y'all, it's the return of the prince, the boss

This is real hard, Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit soft

Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit soft

Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit soft

Ayo check it out, I'm a old school rap nigga

And there's a lot of old school niggas in the house

You know what I mean?

We live and die for this Hip Hop

I came in the game in 19-what? '91

And I'm still standing out this motherfucker (New York)

So check it out, for all my real niggas out this motherfucker

That go back with me, back in the days when shit was real

Let's go back to 1994 out this motherfucker