• Artist: Nas
• Song Title: Made You Look
• Album: God's Son

Intro:
Braveheart's!!! Braveheart's!!! Braveheart's!!! Braveheart's!!! Braveheart's!!! Braveheart's!!! Braveheart's!!!

Verse 1:
Now let's get it all in perspective
For all y'all enjoyment a song y'all could step with
Y'all appointed me to bring rap justice
But I ain't five o y'all know it's Nas yo
Gray goose and a whole lotta hydro
Only describe us if soldiers survive us
Stay laced in the best well dressed with finesse
In the white tee lookin for wifey
Thug girl who fly and talk so nicely
Put her in the coupe so she could feel the nice breeze
We could drive through the city no doubt
But don't say my car's topless, say the titties is out
Newness here's the anthem put your hand up
That you shoot with count your loot with
Push the pool stick in your new crib
Same hand that you hoop with swing around like you stupid
King of the town, yeah I been that
You know I click clack where you and your mens at
Do the smurf do the wop baseball bat
Rooftop like we bringin eighty eight back

Chorus:
They shootin, aw I made you look you a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Gettin big money playboy your time's up
Where them gangstas? where them dimes at?
They shootin, aw I made you look you a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Gettin big money playboy your time's up
Where them gangstas at? where them dimes at?

Verse 2:
This ain't rappin, this is street hop
Now get up off your a** like your seat's hot
My live n****s, lit up the reefa
Trunk of the car we got the street sweeper
Don't start none won't be none
No reason for your mans to panic, you don't wanna see no ambulances
Knock a pimp's drink down in his pimp cup
That's the way you get timerland up
Let the music defuse all the tension, baller convention free admission
Hustlers, dealers, and killers could move swift
Girls get close you could feel where the tool's kept
All my just comin home meets parolees
Get money leave the beef alone slowly
Get out my face you people so phoney
Pull out my waist the eagle fo' forty

Chorus:
They shootin, aw I made you look you a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Gettin big money playboy your time's up
Where them gangstas? where them dimes at?
They shootin, aw I made you look you a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Gettin big money playboy your time's up
Where them gangstas at? where them dimes at?

Bridge:
Braveheart's!!! braveheart's!!! braveheart's!!! braveheart's!!!

Verse 3:
I see n****s runnin, yo my mood is real rude
I'll lay you out show you what steel do
Mobsters don't box my pump shot obliges
Every invitation to fight ya punk a**es
Like Pun said you ain't even in me clasa
Made batch benz backseat tv plasma
Ladies lookin for athletes or rappers
Whatever you choose whatever you do
Make sure he a thug and intelligent too
Like a real thoroughbred is, show me love let me feel how the head is
Females who's the sexiest? It's always the nastiest
And I like a little sassyness a lotta class
Mami reach in your bag, pass the fifth
I'm a leader at last this a don you with
My nine'll spit, n****s lose conscienceness