Nas – Office Hours Lyrics

Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
Yeah, yeah
No reason to stop
Sht just flowin’ like water (Let it float) Bruce Lee said be like water Flow like water Just coast Hip Hop’s back Esco they know over 808s I’m fatal over samples I go Yayo, Crack Music like the Ye song I’m plugged in Jumper cables, trap, bumpin’ like prenatal 70s I played with Play-Doh All I see a bunch of Fredos Godfather, they on payroll They on go when I say so Not to kill, not a halo They gon’

build, plant tomatoes in the field Not O.J. though , white truck, negotiator on the phone Talkin’ paper, office hours all day tho I’m from the hood that started the YERRR Go and check it do your research I started the surge That big necklace sht
After the 80s, after Rakim, I resurrected it Chest is lit
Freezin’ I’m polar vortexin’ it
Now they quiz me, am I gonna step from the business A lot of fillings in this game like I just left the dentist Without a numbing needle
I feed the people ‘cuz I love the people

Two series at once, yeah let’s run the sequel
If I really got it dumb it down for some of yall That’s that Magic & KD at the same time
(Not Dumber or Dumber)
This ain’t a Dumb or Dumber sequel
Jeff Daniels, Jim Carrey’s my mans
(Yeah)
But here’s the plan
Multitasker
I don’t need an OG pass
See my trajectory is everlasting, like Curtis Jackson Hit 105 and did a crazy tirade
I’m surprised that I acted that way

A baby Mac-10 on my ‘yac sht Carhartt in the cold Don’t get confused or used or let them barter your soul Rap what I live, I sleep good, I have no vendettas We the reason you spelling NY with capital letters, listen And for those who want my position You gotta step inside a time machine come back with a vengeance You should go study my analytics I shouted people on verses that ain’t deserve it When it’s turf sht I stand on business
Shout to the ones to whom I gave passes
Could’ve been a lot of graves full of caskets
Damn I’m a good guy

For that I think I’m blessed more
All these Fredos could’ve been added to the death score There’ll be Second Line dancin’ on St Charles Street New Orleans band was jammin’ playin’ a raw beat
They gon’ miss him, sad, they say they stopped his heartbeat Like his arteries clogged from feasting on some hard meat
Innocent victim
Stick ‘em, get ‘em, book ‘em, good you got ‘em
Glad you took ‘em
Black and wasn’t lookin’
Headshot

Drill shit up the pole
Pure sht, 40 Glock Kill snitch, run, but you still hit Ratpack ‘em, jump ‘em, gun butt ‘em, rub ‘em He fight back, snuff ‘em This sht ain’t ‘bout nuttin’
You saw it but you ain’t seen sht This is Queens sht
No Ifs Ands or Buts in between sht It’s 50 nigga You already know how I get when I get on my bullsht Ha ha ha
He’s tweakin’ and geekin’
Ha, ha
Southside ngga QB ngga yeah
So what we gonna do
Where Jungle at?
What we gonna do

We stayin’ in here or we goin’ out
Sht we should go out we rich as a muthafcka
Esco they know over 808s or fatal over samples
I go Yayo, Crack Music like the Ye song I’m plugged in Jumper cables, trap, bumpin’ like prenatal 70s
I played with Play-Doh
All I see a bunch of Fredos
All I see a bunch of Fredos
All I see a bunch of Fredos

All I
All I see is a bunch of Fredos
Ha, ayo Fif I might put my next album out on G-Unit You let ‘em slap you around out here
You can’t let ‘em slap you around out here it’s bad for the family They put a hand on you, you put two on them
Fckin’ Fredos One thing I hate is a fcking Fredo
It’s bad for the family