Pricey
(Hit-Boy)
Boss shit, your Lordship
Niggas talkin' yachts and some more shit
I used to run the block, now I'm corporate (corporate)
Hoppin' out, you know it's Son when the doors lift
Whole squad hide the burners (whole squad)
Mets hats in the sky like Bobby Shmurda
They watch me like a chip', courtside at The Rucker
Flow only getting tougher, she beggin' me to cuff her
Brooklyn Sweet Chick, waffles with raspberry butter
Wear a mink at the roller rink middle of the summer
If I can't get it done, I got soldiers with me to cover
Queens get the money, we only stackin' it upwards
G's stay icy 'cause shit get spicy
She on Demon Time, I get her a timepiece
Patek, niggas not lit, not like me
Can't get nothin' by me, my mind is 2090
¿Qué lo que? Everybody pricey
Cost money, beat the charge money
Fast money, push to start money
Large money, Escobar money (uh)
Little advice (little advice), always add spice (uh)
Always get the liquor with the ice (not me)
I don't give a f*ck if that's his wife
I could bag any bitch in these all white Nikes (uh)
That ain't right, if she tell me, "No", I'm gettin' tight
Look, every time you saw me I was nice (ayy)
Every time I saw you, you was light (you was)
Uh, every bitch you with look like a dyke (lil' bitch)
Uh, I mean she might (might) not never be my type, nah
She might never be my type, look
That bitch is trash, I only f*ck her for the hype (uh)
I only f*ck her for the hype, look (uh)
¿Qué lo que? Everybody pricey
Cost money, beat the charge money
Fast money, push to start money
Large money, Escobar money
Niggas saying Ferg back, but I been with the shits
Might make a grill with Tiffany's on my gentleman shit
My drill niggas out in Brooklyn and they spinnin' and shit
Bumpin' Pop out the whip while we sippin' and shit (movie)
Model bitches that's precise, f*ck attendants off the flights
Keep the vision through the lights, never blinded by the hype
Keep the Tommy near the belly, sincere 'cause I'm hype
Got a ghetto Naomi Campbell, designer with the Nikes
I'm the one talkin' spice, twelve year old killers
With the guns and the knives, better run for your life
Got a queen in Queens and my ex a Puerto Rican spice
My Harlem bitch doin' time, gettin' caught up with the swipes
¿Qué lo que? Everybody pricey
Cost money, beat the charge money (uh)
Fast money, push to start money (uh)
Large money, Escobar money (lil' bitch)
Hit-Boy, we got another one (pricey)
Nastradamus, Fivio (vroom)
A$AP Ferg (yeah)
Spicy Video (MV)
Performed By: Nas
From Album: King's Disease
Written by: Chauncey Hollis, Darold Durard Brown, Maxie Ryles, Nasir Jones
Nas - Spicy Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Pricey
(Hit-Boy)
Boss shit, your Lordship
Niggas talkin' yachts and some more shit
I used to run the block, now I'm corporate (corporate)
Hoppin' out, you know it's Son when the doors lift
Whole squad hide the burners (whole squad)
Mets hats in the sky like Bobby Shmurda
They watch me like a chip', courtside at The Rucker
Flow only getting tougher, she beggin' me to cuff her
Brooklyn Sweet Chick, waffles with raspberry butter
Wear a mink at the roller rink middle of the summer
If I can't get it done, I got soldiers with me to cover
Queens get the money, we only stackin' it upwards
G's stay icy 'cause shit get spicy
She on Demon Time, I get her a timepiece
Patek, niggas not lit, not like me
Can't get nothin' by me, my mind is 2090
¿Qué lo que? Everybody pricey
Cost money, beat the charge money
Fast money, push to start money
Large money, Escobar money (uh)
Little advice (little advice), always add spice (uh)
Always get the liquor with the ice (not me)
I don't give a f*ck if that's his wife
I could bag any bitch in these all white Nikes (uh)
That ain't right, if she tell me, "No", I'm gettin' tight
Look, every time you saw me I was nice (ayy)
Every time I saw you, you was light (you was)
Uh, every bitch you with look like a dyke (lil' bitch)
Uh, I mean she might (might) not never be my type, nah
She might never be my type, look
That bitch is trash, I only f*ck her for the hype (uh)
I only f*ck her for the hype, look (uh)
¿Qué lo que? Everybody pricey
Cost money, beat the charge money
Fast money, push to start money
Large money, Escobar money
Niggas saying Ferg back, but I been with the shits
Might make a grill with Tiffany's on my gentleman shit
My drill niggas out in Brooklyn and they spinnin' and shit
Bumpin' Pop out the whip while we sippin' and shit (movie)
Model bitches that's precise, f*ck attendants off the flights
Keep the vision through the lights, never blinded by the hype
Keep the Tommy near the belly, sincere 'cause I'm hype
Got a ghetto Naomi Campbell, designer with the Nikes
I'm the one talkin' spice, twelve year old killers
With the guns and the knives, better run for your life
Got a queen in Queens and my ex a Puerto Rican spice
My Harlem bitch doin' time, gettin' caught up with the swipes
¿Qué lo que? Everybody pricey
Cost money, beat the charge money (uh)
Fast money, push to start money (uh)
Large money, Escobar money (lil' bitch)
Hit-Boy, we got another one (pricey)
Nastradamus, Fivio (vroom)
A$AP Ferg (yeah)
(Hit-Boy)
Boss shit, your Lordship
Niggas talkin' yachts and some more shit
I used to run the block, now I'm corporate (corporate)
Hoppin' out, you know it's Son when the doors lift
Whole squad hide the burners (whole squad)
Mets hats in the sky like Bobby Shmurda
They watch me like a chip', courtside at The Rucker
Flow only getting tougher, she beggin' me to cuff her
Brooklyn Sweet Chick, waffles with raspberry butter
Wear a mink at the roller rink middle of the summer
If I can't get it done, I got soldiers with me to cover
Queens get the money, we only stackin' it upwards
G's stay icy 'cause shit get spicy
She on Demon Time, I get her a timepiece
Patek, niggas not lit, not like me
Can't get nothin' by me, my mind is 2090
¿Qué lo que? Everybody pricey
Cost money, beat the charge money
Fast money, push to start money
Large money, Escobar money (uh)
Little advice (little advice), always add spice (uh)
Always get the liquor with the ice (not me)
I don't give a f*ck if that's his wife
I could bag any bitch in these all white Nikes (uh)
That ain't right, if she tell me, "No", I'm gettin' tight
Look, every time you saw me I was nice (ayy)
Every time I saw you, you was light (you was)
Uh, every bitch you with look like a dyke (lil' bitch)
Uh, I mean she might (might) not never be my type, nah
She might never be my type, look
That bitch is trash, I only f*ck her for the hype (uh)
I only f*ck her for the hype, look (uh)
¿Qué lo que? Everybody pricey
Cost money, beat the charge money
Fast money, push to start money
Large money, Escobar money
Niggas saying Ferg back, but I been with the shits
Might make a grill with Tiffany's on my gentleman shit
My drill niggas out in Brooklyn and they spinnin' and shit
Bumpin' Pop out the whip while we sippin' and shit (movie)
Model bitches that's precise, f*ck attendants off the flights
Keep the vision through the lights, never blinded by the hype
Keep the Tommy near the belly, sincere 'cause I'm hype
Got a ghetto Naomi Campbell, designer with the Nikes
I'm the one talkin' spice, twelve year old killers
With the guns and the knives, better run for your life
Got a queen in Queens and my ex a Puerto Rican spice
My Harlem bitch doin' time, gettin' caught up with the swipes
¿Qué lo que? Everybody pricey
Cost money, beat the charge money (uh)
Fast money, push to start money (uh)
Large money, Escobar money (lil' bitch)
Hit-Boy, we got another one (pricey)
Nastradamus, Fivio (vroom)
A$AP Ferg (yeah)
Writer: Chauncey Hollis, Darold Durard Brown, Maxie Ryles, Nasir Jones
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.