'Nahshon' is featured as a movie character in the following productions:

Hip Hop Kidz: It's a Beautiful Thing (2006)

Actors Jim Green (producer), Noah Harald (editor), Mark Bacino (producer), Lee Curreri (composer), Kris Black (writer), Jack S. Kimball (producer), Jack S. Kimball (editor), D.J. Viola (director), Todd M. Camhe (producer), Cody Longo (actor), Patrick Curd (producer), Mace Camhe (producer), Jamie Green (producer), Allison Paige (actress), Kehynde Hill (actress),

Ehad Mishelanu (1989)

Actors Alon Aboutboul (actor), Tova Asher (editor), Arnon Zadok (actor), Sharon Alexander (actor), Uri Barbash (director), Gadi Levy (producer), Benny Barbash (writer), Benny Barbash (writer), Dan Toren (actor), Shaul Mizrahi (actor), Dalia Shimko (actress), Zvi Spielmann (producer), Alon Neuman (actor), Ilan Virtzberg (composer), Ruby Porat Shoval (actress),

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  Write Your Nameshow lyrics

  Write Your Name

  [Hook:]
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Nashawn!
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Bravehearts!
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Nashawn!
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  [Verse 1:]
  Uh, for my name these niggaz'll die
  It's only one name write mines across the sky
  I gave Cheeba to escape all the true lies
  I blow the smoke and lye
  See the cloud spell my name in the sky
  It's Nashawn!, dippin' in the lambo, Rambo, Commando
  Slugs that he can't handle, he a clown
  Costume jury down
  Play the part in the movie he think he Out-po
  Bitch!
  [Hook:]
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Nashawn!
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Bravehearts!
  [Verse 2:]
  If I killed one of these rappers, somebody'll snitch
  I ain't gon' hit 'em wit one
  I put the whole Clip, .4/.5th's so sick
  Head split hoe-less
  I'm here to write my name to boldness
  If you fuck 'Cam bitch let me know this
  Cuz I think he got A.I.D.S, full blown kid
  Jenny Jones don't wanna split whole Wig
  Nashawn put the Murder Game down
  Slugs in his Pink fitted, Coward!
  [Hook:]
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Nashawn!
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Bravehearts!
  [Verse 3:]
  Wit a Spray can and Red paint, I ain't goin' nowhere
  Been through it, Nashawn all across the Hemisphere
  Spit Coffins, live off it, all these dead Corpses
  Rappers rift talkin' shit, I'mma take 'em off this
  Wit not problem, I'mma get mine
  leave a nigga 3-piece suit, shoes spit shine
  Spit .9, holdin' his chest, grabbin' his chin
  I'mma put this fake rap beef to an end
  Say Somethin'!
  [Hook:]
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Nashawn!
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Bravehearts!
  [Verse 4:]
  Hands Up! - my gun is on his forehead
  His man stuck, leave it to me they all dead
  Nash - command demand I go in his Pocket
  Hit his jaw wit the side of the glock, it's poppin'
  Snatch watch off chain Yach, hard as possible
  You Roc-A-Fella nigga rock you
  Profit a dude leave 'em in the cut stinkin'
  Write my name in his chest wit a Knife leakin'
  You Homo!
  [Hook:]
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Nashawn!
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Bravehearts!
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'
  Nashawn!
  'Write Your Name across the Sky'

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  Wowshow lyrics

  Wow

  [Intro: Nashawn]
  Yea, that's what I'm talkin' about, all day
  Nashawn (Wow), 2004 (Wow), nigga here (Wow)
  He-he, it's gon' be realest shit y'all (Wow)
  Get ready for me, the kid, the God
  (Count me in) Nashawn
  [HooK: Nashawn]
  Just look at his watch, just look at his Range
  Just look at his glock, just look at his slang
  Wow, all my ladies go, wow
  Just look at his watch, just look at his Range
  Just look at his glock, just look at his slang
  Wow, all my ladies go, wow
  [Verse One: Nashawn]
  When it comes to these women, they wanna ride wit me
  It could mean, she gon' gettin' killed, she wanna die wit me
  Anythin' to lie wit me, keep her high wit me
  But not as high as Whitney and Bobby, wow
  Love her style, she keep a doobie wrapped up or when she let it down
  Every girl in town wanna be her now
  She use to stay in the hood, now she won't be around
  Wow, feel well, some of my old squeezes, I got some new pieces
  Icin' out the head of Jesus
  Lights on, on the highway, speedin'
  Light rain, hyrdo in my right hand, chiefin'
  [Interlude: Nashawn]
  Yea, [SNIFFS] [COUGHS]
  yea, fo'sho, shorty wanna smoke?
  wanna hit this?, uh, I'ma smoke this El to the head
  See that dyke ma ma?
  [HooK: Nashawn]
  Just look at his watch, just look at his Range
  Just look at his glock, just look at his slang
  Wow, all my ladies go, wow
  Just look at his watch, just look at his Range
  Just look at his glock, just look at his slang
  Wow, all my ladies go, wow
  [Verse Two: Nashawn]
  Wow, up in the Bronx, where the people's are fresh
  I had a shorty fat ass and some big ass breast
  Who walk well, all my homies said, wow
  We ain't seen a shorty like that in a while
  Now, they know now, been knew my style
  Got a Portuguese Ma, whose pussy flow like the Canal
  Now, I flossed wit her through town
  Hands down, all the older heads caught me
  I got the baddest bitch around now
  [HooK: Nashawn]
  Just look at his watch, just look at his Range
  Just look at his glock, just look at his slang
  Wow, all my ladies go, wow
  Just look at his watch, just look at his Range
  Just look at his glock, just look at his slang

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  Tributeshow lyrics

  Tribute

  [Intro: Nashawn]
  Yea, Money Machine, Money Machine, Yea C'mon
  [Verse 1:]
  This goes for dudes confused we over rule
  Disrespectful views of the King of NY
  Fuck that, why try? though lie in his eye
  Now we readin' it, that's that hype shit from sayin' it
  Conscience of your non-sense in '99
  Rob more niggaz than, tuck wit the .9
  Toast shit like Compton, nigga rep B
  You wanna get on dunn, you need to ask Reek
  Ain't no other Kings in this rap shit, they siblings
  None but my Children, we pop they disappearin'
  Remember when MC's used to be on funny shit
  Than Notorious came out, listen, study shit
  Now we on some Money Shit, Machine is out the Blue
  You light-weight, Nash milli my white Coke
  Makes the skills shake, that's why my paper neva funny
  And you still re-coup it, stupid it!
  [Hook x2: Nashawn]
  Yea, let's get this Cash, let's get this Cake
  Let's get it so fast and enjoy this Paper
  [Verse 2:]
  Back in Elementary - a nigga drinkin' Hennessey
  Wasn't alone I grew up amongst a Don bree
  I want my .9 didn't need a place to rest
  And now I got 'Money Machine' Tatted on my chest
  Lord could you feel me
  Fuck the people in the past, we wanna last
  Keep your sugar finger fast
  Remember thuggish? no longer livin' he deceased
  Call up the Sirens, he was murdered in the streets
  May he Rest in Peace
  I'm on the low smokin' weed, that's how it be
  And you don't wanna fuck wit me, bitch nigga please
  [Hook x2: Nashawn]
  Yea, let's get this Cash, let's get this Cake
  Let's get it so fast and enjoy this Paper
  [Verse 3:]
  Deep in the middle of Little Italy dealin' wit some middle-men
  nigga I bust you in the cherry red 7-60
  Got the glizzy locked in the stizzy
  Drunked pissy buck 60 down in one-wizzy
  (What's that?) y'all niggaz still buyin' Hub Cabs
  Back of the Shack, came back in the Benz back
  [Hook x2: Nashawn]
  Yea, let's get this Cash, let's get this Cake
  Let's get it so fast and enjoy this Paper
  [Outro: Nashawn]
  Yea, Rest in Peace Biggie Smalls
  Rest in Peace 2pac - Rest in Peace Big Pun
  Yea, this Nashawn y'all, D-lex on the Motherfuckin' track
  Money Machine, Whuttup Jungle, whuttup Reek
  Liver, Air Head, Ron Smack, this how we gon' do it
  Nas whuttup, G-Wiz, it's gangsta
  QB, BX, Mannhattan, Brooklyn, Staten

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  Somebody Gotta Dieshow lyrics

  Somebody Gotta Die

  [Intro: Jungle]
  Yeah, yeah, yeah, Money Machine
  Yeah, yeah, lotta niggas get killed of shit like this
  Ya heard? Listen
  [Hook:]
  It's getting hot yo, somebody gon' die
  It's getting hot yo, somebody gotta die
  It's getting hot yo, somebody gon' die
  It's getting hot yo, somebody gotta die
  [Jungle:]
  Ayo who the richest niggas in the hood who got it locked?
  Who gon' hand-in-hand running from the cops
  On the block with the loose rocks, fight for your props
  Put the ice in your watch; turn your life up a notch
  Get in the streets; if you want beef I gets busy
  Toss crack cookie to my dawg life Frisbees
  I play the club get love from the quarters
  They whisper in my ear "Let's go half on the daughter"
  Don't you know that I'm a cold blooded killer?
  I ain't gon' be shit but a drug dealer
  I looked in my best friends eyes when he died
  Bullets hit his heart two, three times
  Everything I know I learned in the ghetto
  Too much Hennessey make me act like the Devil
  I'll take a lil' argument to another level
  We could fight, use a knife or pop heavy metal
  [Hook x2]
  [Nashawn:]
  I'm in the streets y'all
  You know how many streets I'm a teach y'all
  How many pieces? You know hustlers slinging them pieces
  All the lil' kids dress indecent
  Another baby moms up in the precinct
  With his cracks on the table and this nigga's I.D bent
  To three month all baby is teething
  And now his life on the run for no damn reason
  He tell his niggas when he see it he's squeezing
  Got dawgs stressed out, lightly eating
  He looked different losing weight when he speaking
  Shot a dude over Jay and Nas beefing in the beacon
  He still bent no bed to sleep in
  The way his eyes lit up you'll be dead if you beef with 'em
  Only some real niggas still chief with 'em
  The younger nigga said "If he's ripped yo I'm leaving 'em"

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  Ms. Cocaineshow lyrics

  Ms. Cocaine

  [Intro: Nashawn]
  Uh, all my drug dealers
  Whether you a nigga or a girl
  (Uh) in the struggle (uh)
  But I treat it like a bitch (uh)
  [Verse 1: Nashawn]
  Look at the girl, she got the world on her shoulders
  Raised in the ghetto and she still gettin' colder
  Early in the mornin' hustlin', she a soldier
  Know about that flippin' and stack chips, but who showed her?
  How to water, got scorched the cook, the Coke
  She don't like a cookie, yo she spend a boulder
  No loose change, she like the money that fold when it came
  In the Spring time, Summer, or the Winter, she came, came
  In the hood, we love you Ms. Cocaine
  I always kept you bundled 'til the fiends came
  And let you get off, and cop you again
  Ma, you the reason why the block poppin'
  All the hustlers give you utmost respect
  'Cause you help us buy .9's and tec's
  We love you, even though you killed a lot of people
  And got a lot of my niggaz in jail, we still need you
  [Hook: Nashawn]
  In the hood we love Ms. Cocaine
  In the ghetto we love you Lady Heroin
  We think about you, 'cause you helped us get change & chains
  A lot of things change, since you came
  In the hood we love Ms. Cocaine
  In the ghetto we love you Lady Heroin
  We think about you, 'cause you helped us get change & chains
  A lot of things change, since you came
  [Verse 2: Nashawn]
  Lady Heroin has gained a weight
  Look a 'lil too diesel
  And it's foul what you do to my people
  Got my pops all leaned over, to you in the needle
  Gotta take care of 'em now, can't leave 'em, he need you
  Let 'em rely on the boy, that's what we call a girl
  Stay away from her, she have you in a whole another world
  Everybody grind her, sometimes she goes both ways
  Her and her friend Bonita
  She a cheater, lightin' up the high
  If you pimp her, I'll have you extra fly
  It's just fast or die, who you provide to
  In the ghetto we love you Lady Heroin
  I always kept you bundled 'til the fiends came
  You got my dawgs, fifty to life, and that ain't right
  Without you, I'ma be alright
  'Cause all my niggaz die hustle wit you, hold yo head
  And keep a watch for the.., watch for the feds
  [Hook: Nashawn]
  In the hood we love Ms. Cocaine
  In the ghetto we love you Lady Heroin
  We think about you, 'cause you helped us get change & chains
  A lot of things change, since you came
  In the hood we love Ms. Cocaine
  In the ghetto we love you Lady Heroin
  We think about you, 'cause you helped us get change & chains
  A lot of things change, since you came
  [Verse 3: Nashawn]
  She got me on the run, cops ran up on my crib for her
  I said she ain't here, they still lookin' for her
  --Rumblin', wreckin' shit, rippin' up my fly shit
  I said - "Ain't no Alicia Keys in here"
  They goin' hard, searchin' for this broad I'm suppose to have
  Fuckin' up my rest, they goin' up hard in my path, tried to cuff me
  It's about to get ugly, I grabbed the cop gun after he snuffed me
  I'm goin' all out, *blaow* *blaow*, two shots blew
  One cop down, one cop through
  Then I boated out, got to get out of the country
  Somebody done set me up, lovely, lovely
  Oh, how I love you Ms. Cocaine
  You had me up in the game before the cops came
  oh, how I love you Lady Heroin
  You had me up in the game before the feds came
  [Hook: Nashawn]
  In the hood we love Ms. Cocaine
  In the ghetto we love you Lady Heroin
  We think about you, 'cause you helped us get change & chains
  A lot of things change, since you came
  In the hood we love Ms. Cocaine
  In the ghetto we love you Lady Heroin
  We think about you, 'cause you helped us get change & chains

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  In Jailshow lyrics

  In Jail

  [Nashawn:]
  When I first hear the beat, walked on it, so perfect at
  Everybody in town wanted to hear verses (In Jail)
  I split chins, bring Grey Goose
  Listen I'm repping all them niggas in prison
  Like, get big, come home, have kids
  Watch, how many bitches wanna suck your cock (In Jail)
  Rolling I'll Will Record style, smash rocks
  How many pebbles on the street get popped?
  And y'all don't want it, washed up
  That nigga got the mothafucking monster
  I'm the best of the new breed
  5'7" with a gold teeth, brown skin with a chrome 3
  570 you dead homey, y'all niggas don't know me (In Jail)
  Hush, or get the whole gang clique touch
  These dude's too slow can't keep up
  All I hear is "Nashawn I'm living"
  Y'all can't live in prison y'all too real
  Y'all won't live in (In Jail)
  [Chorus: Nashawn]
  If you want it, you could get it
  'Cause that nigga Nash a menace (In Jail)
  It's been a minute, keep it quiet
  Now he about to start a riot
  Do-do-do-do-do-do
  [Nashawn:]
  My block hot now I got a rat
  And these clowns in the industry don't want to scrap
  Yo picture me (In Jail) fighting on the block
  And the dude got a knife, he'll yell
  He won't last in jail man, I be the same nigga rocking my jewels
  Popping shit, knocking out fools, getting mad bitches from bitches
  Walking down the hall like what, my k-tone sharp two brush
  Get cut, face it, we're the bravest, outrageous
  Been a wild since we came off the slave ships
  Cake it (In Jail), we been had money, y'all just made it
  All you do is get yourself body for racing
  Nashawn spit for the hell and dons in the jail
  See you if you knew the bail (In Jail)
  I compare these streets to a coke sell
  Y'all cowards won't last today in jail
  Y'all will tell
  [Chorus]
  [Nashawn:]
  Props is need, y'all dude's got the wrong kid
  He'll stand up (In Jail), Queens and the Bronx
  Where I lived for years, Nashawn coming down on 'em
  And that be their worst nightmares, spit sickness
  They be clown rap, now listen how I switch tracks
  I'm the eeny, meeny, he won't come back
  Pour a lil' Henny out
  In the 6 with no roof and the titties out
  Call Nas, call Jung, call Wizard
  The way we handle ourselves we could live in (In Jail)
  We're the realest clique out
  Y'all come through fronting and get knocked the fuck out
  'Cause we're brave, we're the bravest
  We brave, we're the bravest (In Jail)
  We brave, we're the bravest
  We brave, we're the bravest

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  Generationshow lyrics

  Generation

  [Intro: Nashawn]
  Nashawn, Money Machine
  Here that phone ring?, ha-ha
  Ill Will y'all
  [Verse 1: Nashawn]
  Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
  Ayo that's the hood dawg
  Hungry little niggaz, like that's the ghetto y'all
  Slugs for Christmas, thugs cookin' up, usin' Mom's dishes
  Playin' with guns, hopin' dump-dumps
  And run up on yo crib while you in it
  He a little dunn-dunn, see he gon' grow up and be a menace
  Operation at 12, miss 'em long in the penit
  Give 'em a gun and you finished
  See he the future, I don't know when they come back
  I give 'em a .9 ruger
  On the block how to maneuver
  And you gotta feed your dog, so they could be fat, who could move 'em
  Hurt shit, use to the limit, gotta murk shit
  Show his ass how to ride in the Hurst
  All my life I put work in, pumpin' the servant
  Fiends this is the life of a kid in the urban
  Who fiends for the Porsche's, Jeeps and Suburbans
  Speedin' down the street, I ain't tryin' to see curtains
  [Hook: Nashawn]
  Some dude's live through it
  Some dude's could die
  If you alone in that coffin - goodbye
  Death could make a grown motha'fuckin' man cry
  Gotta seeyou on the other side (See you on the other side)
  Some dude's live through it
  Some dude's could die
  If you alone in that coffin - goodbye
  Death could make a motha'fuckin' grown man cry
  Gotta seeyou on the other side (See you on the other side)
  [Verse 2: Nashawn]
  Listen, death by inches, it's off the hinges
  I gotta say - shit push back on benches
  My .40 caliber gotta spray
  Whose that now?, who got found with a round?
  In his forehead, tryin' to be down?
  Mess up, and there will be more dead, try me clowns
  when I catch 'em, yo I'm in ATL stompin' 'em out
  What I'm about, try to see the sea off to see shores
  Spots from the Bronx, to B-More
  Tree off, to G-Four's, or Bentley's with spinnin' doors
  Defend my fans, damn I'm the fuckin' man
  I held my grams and I deserved it
  Held pistol in my hand and contribute to people mass murder
  I try splurge, but that ain't worth it, of workin'
  But I continue to put work in
  [Hook: Nashawn]
  Some dude's live through it
  Some dude's could die
  If you alone in that coffin - goodbye
  I put a gun to your eye, bullet to your head
  To see if your motha'fuckin' brains could fly
  [Hook: Nashawn]
  Some dude's live through it
  Some dude's could die
  If you alone in that coffin - goodbye
  Death could make a grown motha'fuckin' man cry
  Gotta seeyou on the other side (See you on the other side)
  Some dude's live through it
  Some dude's could die
  If you alone in that coffin - goodbye
  Death could make a motha'fuckin' grown man cry

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  Fait Ballshow lyrics

  Fait Ball

  [Chorus: Nashawn]
  Strike (One)
  Batter got another swing
  Money Machine team we do our thang
  Strike (Two)
  And I'm a test my luck
  The pitcher going hard he want another batter up
  Strike (Three)
  You know that I'm gon' swing
  I tip the ball now I'm gon' again
  Strike (Four)
  I'm gon' for the homerun
  It's going, going, gone!
  [Nashawn:]
  I take off through the moon roof
  You hear a clap that's Nashawn Jones in that red coupe
  You hear that, yes, I got them girl's suit
  And wear that, right here I do the damn du
  My plan plat, I don't care what her man do
  She got some wonderful toes in them sandals
  And gamble that fat ass I can handle
  I don't be there on the corner, I don't scramble
  A grown man I roll my weed up and bamble
  And beef I take a man apart, I dismantle
  Two right behind the ear, I'm from the Galaxy kid
  With sought to make my salary big
  I don't care how those factual's live
  But with the Money Machine make a deposit and the check will be clear
  Yeah, I said the cash will be there
  But if you don't produce right fun boy your casket will be there
  [Chorus]
  [Nashawn:]
  Problems y'all don't want it, I swing that bat
  I'm a dog in a world that'll kill that cat
  I just lounge in the mound with my hat on back
  And step up to the plate, Bonds up to bat
  Nah, Nashawn jiggy spit that crack
  I look nice with the siggy man my dunn go black
  Yeah, you bets believe my recipe will be
  Smoking that weed, the piff is a tree for me
  I'm running through speed, yo Flex drop a bomb diggy
  She got Money Machine tatted on her titties
  Stomp hard in the city, nothing ain't pretty
  But the cars and the Mac-10s, rims and the broke friends
  I'm going hard; I'm trying to stress those ends
  Sit nice in the Benz, I want her and her friends
  Head blown in the wind, Money Machine my team
  Stack nothing but suitcases of green

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  Choir Songshow lyrics

  Choir Song

  [Nas:]
  Yea you know how it be
  All my thugs gon' thuggin' the streets
  But let the Choir Sing
  (Choir Humming)
  Yea you know how it be
  All 'em thugs gon' thuggin' the streets
  But let the Choir Sing
  (Choir Humming)
  Now put your hoods on
  Put your gloves on, nigga!
  [Nashawn:]
  Ayo I gotta break these streets shit down
  I'm walkin' through Town
  I'm holdin' my very big 3-pound
  Costumers is floodin' the kid
  And it's the first of the month
  So many hands I dropped my shit
  Pickin' my rocks up
  I told the Fiends back off
  And now I ain't servin' none of ya'll
  Fresh Black Truck hopped in it
  Tinted, Rims glissin' got a Bitch in it
  Race to the finish
  Nashawn straight Menace
  Guineas - in my left hand
  While I'm drivin' drunk which on you want
  Hand-gun, Machine or the Pump?
  I'll murder you, have everybody in your crew
  in Black-suit, your gril in Black vial lookin' Gorgeous
  I'mma Gangsta!
  Shanksta, body you fuckin' her
  I ain't lovin' her, I'm guttin' her
  And you know how it be
  When you comin' from and livin' in the P's
  [Nas:]
  Yea you know how it be
  All my thugs gon' thuggin' the streets
  But let the Choir Sing
  (Choir Humming)
  Yea you know how it be
  All 'em thugs gon' thuggin' the streets
  But let the Choir Sing
  (Choir Humming)
  Now put your hoods on

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  Bossed Upshow lyrics

  Bossed Up

  [Intro: Nas]
  Every fucking day [x3], everyday niggas
  Look around niggas [x3]
  What you gon' to do 'bout it nigga? [x3]
  What you gotta say 'bout it nigga? [x3]
  That's right [x3], that's right [x3]
  Run all over y'all niggas [x3]
  What y'all gon' do 'bout it? [x3]
  [Chorus: Nas]
  Uh, Bossed Up when we roll [x3]
  Uh, Bossed Up in control [x3]
  Uh, Bossed Up when we roll [x3]
  Uh yea, Bossed Up in control [x3]
  Always, Uh, Bossed Up when we roll [x3]
  Yea uh, Bossed Up in control [x3]
  Yea uh, Bossed Up when we roll [x3]
  Bossed Up in control [x3]
  (Braaaaave)
  Tossed up and get folded [x3]
  [Nashawn:]
  Yo, it ain't nutting else to do but party
  Life is to short, you'll get bodied
  Killers do killings for hobbies
  I want a bad singing bitch to ride by me
  Like Whitney did Bobby
  With the future I'll take Ashanti
  I'll settle for actress like Halle
  Who workout and keep a tight body
  Love how I polly probably
  We into money like Bill Cosby
  Kill somebody in your crib
  Like Jayson Williams shotty did
  With no accidents
  Tryna to keep my hands on these Presidents
  Til I'm a veteran, mind over medicine, Coke game to Heroin
  Nigga only die once, you can't be dead again
  Another bitch in my bed when you got here
  Popped off in Delaware, top price to fight anywhere
  New years, it's Nashawn coward
  On them corners niggas get devoured
  I spit outage, straight foulness, where you're crowded
  Clowns get... straight lynched, nooses hanging over the tree
  Tell your self you can't fuck with me, BITCH!
  [Chorus: Nas]
  [Nas:]
  Riding in my city on haze
  Eyes on a million and one ways
  To get paid and my goose is cooked
  Rocking gear that some boosters took
  Either mass market or target I maneuver the look
  From soul food to Nobu, I'm schooling the cooks
  Studio, old school, or pro tools, nigga, I'm O'Douls
  That means no booze, I only gets greens
  I got a inf beam that lay on the fifth lean
  That sprays up your clique team
  Indigenous but frivolous, different whips riding sideways
  Nas pays attention to the littlest shit?
  Mentioned by itty-bitty rappers with their chitty-chatter
  Encircle their soul, purple, I smoke O's
  Perverse verses poke holes, nigga, I birth flows
  Tatted, fitted hat, savage, y'all aggie
  Line us up, ask me who fathered their style
  I say, "I the pappy"
  High in the backseat, flat feet
  Passerby's think I'm an athlete
  Chris Childs or the rapper Lil Scrappy
  So I sign their name, just as happy
  Diamond chain, wrist is flashy

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  All Summer Longshow lyrics

  All Summer Long

  [Intro: Nashawn]
  Money Machine, uh
  Check me out now, yea, uh
  Check me out now, uh
  Money Machine, uh, uh, yea
  Check me out now
  [Nashawn:]
  Yo, uh you see that Benz her friends wanna ride in it
  Switch it out to Automatic and she ride on Stick
  Baby Girl nice sizin', thighs all thick
  I'm half there Mami, soon be rich
  And that Money Machine is squirtin' out Benji's
  Don't count $1's, $20's, or $50's
  Stay wit me until you see my Pock knot empty
  Propz on the block, $1,000 Bills Crispy
  Bitches always wanna kiss me
  Knowin' when she miss me
  Not tellin' her man say she wit Britney
  Knowin' I'mma have my dick where her Ribs be
  Goin' all crazy tryin' to shift Kidney
  And I know why she pick me
  Hoes from Yit, and [?]Periphery[?]
  Down south, West side and Sicily
  She got love in her Bones
  The way I come down, Nashawn Jones
  [Hook x2: Nashawn (Jungle)]
  All Summer Long (All Summer)
  We Stackin' Cheddar (Get Money)
  And it neva felt so hard (QB c'mon)
  Money Machine (Machine)
  We got that Coco Triple Kilo (Kilos)
  When they see us they scream (Scream)
  [Jungle:]
  Pretty Young thang only little freak, stop frontin'
  Take your pants off, let's get it jumpin'
  You look good, Could I see how your pussy feel ?
  For real, you got a whole lot of Sex Appeal
  I'm from the Projects -> QB where the P's at
  Sellin' Crack, bustin' gats and that's all that
  Your ass Phat tell your Baby Pops fall back
  Or relax I will hit 'em up wit the Mac
  But you I'm Puttin' different Position
  Baby Girl listen, I'll be your addiction
  Your legs hard no stretch mark on your Stomach
  I hit it right, every night just like you want it
  I got your G spot cutie pie I won't stop
  You come lie on top sex wasn't hot
  You got an Onion wit a Small Waist
  Smell so good I wanna see how you taste
  [Hook x2: Nashawn (Jungle)]
  All Summer Long (All Summer)
  We Stackin' Cheddar (Get Money)
  And it neva felt so hard (QB c'mon)
  Money Machine (Machine)
  We got that Coco Triple Kilo (Kilos)
  When they see us they scream (Scream)
  [Wiz:]
  You see my mental lop, got a thing for cop
  She throwin' her ass at me, I'm hopin' to see it drop
  I'm hopin' to see the pussy, I'm hopin' to see it pop
  She tippy, tippy GOD DAMN! now let me see it live
  She drop top, now she doin' slower motion
  DAMN! that's overdosin' right there
  Hold it open, I'm scopin' though she holdin'
  Get all greeny she she see's me
  That money get me, get me
  Do somethin' strange for change
  Somethin' needy just for penny
  I'mma GANGSTA! P I M P
  Braveheart, if you fuck wit me
  Niggaz they talk but don't want nuttin' wit me
  You see I got these Bitches Hypnotized
  I'm runnin' 'em and workin' thorough bred are thighs
  YOu see the looks in they eyes, they neva slippin'
  They either give me my money, Or else, I'm popin' the clippin'
  Don't play me too close or plug wit toast
  Money Machine - we give ya a dose

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  A Hunedshow lyrics

  A Huned

  [Nashawn:]
  Yo, I got request for the yayo, shooters on the payroll
  Pocket's full of Pecos, Nash he's the best like
  Watch dog, stay froze, clap friends and foes
  Your eyes, she close, they close, my dawgs stay close
  I'm gunning for a white rose, driving in a white Rove
  I'm liver then and hotter then, live on the white gold
  See I should go for President; them hoes will hit the pole
  You see me in that strip club; them hoes fall of the pole
  My whole team glittery, stunning in rose gold
  Them niggas looking shity and know we won't fold
  Nash, Nashawn was my mothafucking name, base
  Stay calm, here's two to your fucking face
  Money Machine, them hoes call me love place
  See I'm a hood nigga on mad drug space
  You wish you was like me without a damn case
  I leave dawgs unsolved without a damn trace
  You see that .44 long it's just a man fate
  It ain't no reason to show up to that man's wake
  Cash by the abundance, murder by the hundreds
  '99 niggas dunn got it, now who want it huh?
  This my year it feels like '95
  That's when I realized the world was mine
  I'm doing fine, just a lil' more wine and dine
  And crack crab and fuck your hoes at the same time
  A lil' more lab, chopping more slabs
  Now I'm jumping in the Lincoln, no more calling cabs
  Nashbroham Lincoln, I got a quarter of stash
  That's a quarter of a million, y'all niggas can't add
  Yeah, it's the future, I'm the nicest
  Nashbroham Lincoln, Jungle George Washington
  Nasir Jones, Money Machine Records, the movement