Trillmatic A$AP Mob (Ft. A$AP NAST & Method Man)

[Intro: A$AP Nast]
Yo
Yo-yo, yo
Ahem
Nineties-era Nasty
Yeah
Yo
Ty Beats!

[Verse 1: A$AP Nast]
I need some time alone, cold, my rhymes will turn your mind to stone
That's the work of Satan, niggas be hatin', but I'm a pot of gold
This ain't just me rappin', it's real and somethin' you gots to know
Catch a mark nigga hatin', get him a casket, that bastard's 'bout to go
Whoa, Nasty baby, I'm crazy, the nineties raised me
I'm just as smart, probably smarter than half the cats who play me
Brazy, drivin' Miss Daisy, hand on my strap
In my zone, mind on my money like, "Where that shit at?"
I'm all alone, that's my only hope
And be damned if I'ma chase that with some phony homes—on the real
It be the ones that say, "We got this"—
That "You ain't alone as long as I'm here"—
To pull out that Glock 9 and cocked it
He mad you got rich, but on the low, you should've watched him
Cats connivin', head first into the livest object
That was your man; now, you 'bout to die quick over some fly shit
You feel reminded of your fast-life ventures and winters
Blinded 'til the flashlight enters