Guilty Simpson - Nasty lyrics

[Hook] Don't it make you feel alright? Say it again *yeahhh* Say it a little louder *yeahhhhh* [Verse 1: Guilty Simpson] Yeah I should call this liver V8 Juice, black licorice nasty You can't outcla** me Too much street savvy I speak stern Picture me robbin' a cabbie I used to put regs in baggies Now I puff meds of algae I crumple up pieces of bong hits And load 'em in my M420 (Then what?) And provoke more envy Send me my dough in advance Steal from me? And leave with a hole in your hand Yeah The heater stay clipped up Your chick is a walking strip club We throw her the dough and she dance...wherever I better bet her I'm better, bet a motherf**in' bow I'm doin' rappers bold I punch his lights out like, "Damn, he's out cold." I slaughter for my honor, you leave with head trauma [Hook] [Verse 2: Planet Asia] All hail the fly wise men My enterprise been on the rise and I see you sizin' us Large bark leaf, dark leaf, blendin' my broccoli The pot in me has got me seein' it all sparkly I'm a mobster Loungin' with my b**h eatin' Long Beach lobster I love me some fish And them hatin' a** n***as wanna know if my sh** sells I'm good in the hood as long as I got fish scale You'll never find a n***a that's this real To ash blunts on the Aston and treat a Benz like a big wheel And you ain't gotta tell me my sh**'s ill Cause if I leave with your main squeeze that b**h will And you better sit still And chill when I fell for the jooks n***as get billed and k**ed for the fraudulent looks For the big bills I'm mobbin' with the gods and the crooks And I guarantee you that sh**'ll slap hard in the trunk [Hook] [Verse Three: Guilty Simpson] Big dog, I'm a Rottweiler I'm gettin' bread, I'm a stockpiler I'm cold-hearted for a hot dollar See rappers gettin' buzzed tryin' to sound like me I just smile like a proud father Loud ganja You think I give a f** about your list? Them clowns don't exist That's how I feel with a sk** set like this I hit 'em with a black fist ? style afro pick The gats go click and clack at 'em He holler back at 'em With more force I'm all for us To travel to your home court (What?) And go to work to work with a blow torch Torched ya scorched ya whole corpse There's no remorse for 'em Talkin' ain't enough, we use brute force on em We never let it ride So violate mine? Just know You cats got a war comin' [Hook]