Pluck ashes, of Cuban cigars, you foolin' with Nas, That's our name, and I came, with groupies this time, And if I'm sayin' that, Soul Plane movies the bomb, Word to my Mom's name tattooed on my arm, You can't revolve me, embalm me, call me, or harm me, Rob me or dodge these bullets I'm bustin', See that's malarkey, you yappin', I open up the tripod, to put the Gatlin on, and I start clappin', Nasty man from baggin' grams and runnin' from cops, To a mil in the hand, a mil on the watch, I'm ****in' with Doc!
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