Breathe Lyrics
In America, you'll never be free
Middle fingers up, fuck the police
Damn, can a nigga just breathe
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricenter.com/e29309-nas~breathe_lyrics.html ]
Bravehearts, still QB's Finest
Grinding, enough diamonds
To change the climate
Not only do you see a nigga shinin'
You can see a nigga breathe
Jewels enchanted
Like they was new from Atlantis
Cruise with the hammer
Jealous-hearted, can't stand them
Haters are scandalous, damn
Can't a nigga just breathe
To all my niggas getting money in the streets
Middle fingers up, fuck the police
Light up my trees, and I just breathe
I twist them
Baby-momma-beef victim
Chronic leaf-hitting
All kinds of heat wit him
Wisdom, from pot to pissin'
To high position
Intense hustle
It's pain like a pinched muscle
'Til it rains and my Timbs stain my socks
'Til I dodge enough shots and the presiding judge
Slams a mallet and says 'life', I'ma guap
Then I cop, then I yacht, then I dock
Island-hopping, away from nightmare-holders
Or cowboy slangers, who shoot up any club
To see their names ring loud on some FBI poster
Must be on X or he coked up, suggesting I post the
Bail, I'm like yes, 'cause we soldiers
We just getting older
In time, we still in our prime
I can't afford a new arrest on my folder
Nigga, breathe
In America, you'll never be free
Middle fingers up, fuck the police
Damn, can a nigga just breathe
Bravehearts, still QB's Finest
Grinding, enough diamonds
To change the climate
Not only do you see a nigga shinin'
You can see a nigga breathe
Jewels enchanted
Like they was new from Atlantis
Cruise with the hammer
Jealous-hearted, can't stand them
Haters are scandalous, damn
Can't a nigga just breathe
To all my niggas getting money in the streets
Middle fingers up, fuck the police
Light up my trees, and I just breathe
I'm fresh out of city housing
Ain't have too many options
Pennies on a pension or penitentiary-bounded
Plenty Henny in me
??Envy was simple they trend see??
My enemy was every hater that was bigger than me
The high life, the fly life
Pierre Hardy, Imitation of Christ
Iceware gaudy, since '94 flossy
The Lex was an excellent choice now fast forward me
The pestilence of the ghetto informed me, as a shorty
To push nothing less than a 740
With fresh linen
Sip Pellegrino with heirs on
They sick, mixing they water when airborne . . .
Oh, they so sick
Look how I got them going crazy
Look at that
You gotta let it out
Stress ain't good, man
You gotta breathe . . .