Thursday, February 18, 2010


Here's a song I've been feeling a lot lately and been repeating continuously since I got it. "Victory" by Nas feat. John Legend. The wordplay on this is really nice and, in that respect, has Nas doing a big favor for Khaled by not just giving him some leftover shit.

I'm kind of annoyed, just because it's from "DJ" Khaled's album. I'm not sure what he does, I'm not sure what makes him a DJ. Maybe he doesn't mean like a hip hop DJ is a DJ. Maybe he means like a disc jockey you hear on the radio that talks a little bit and then plays a record (I do that in my living room, so I guess that means I'm a DJ).

The track is produced by The Inkredibles (who I'm not crazy about on the whole), so maybe Khaled just paid for the studio time or something, so he could put it on his bullshit album. And if you have seen the tracklisting, you know it's bullshit. But, this here is definitely worth listening to. YouTube link is below, and lyrics to the verse are below that. I'd say it's probably worth it just to download this off iTunes, and forget the actual album.

Speedboats, three tokes and pass it
Grass lit, hittin’ slopes in Aspen
No coat, just an oath to stay thorough ’til we back to ashes
Driven in fly sedans to the MGM Grand
Picture lots of sand, two blondes, implants
Remy in hand, we tryna tan, deal my cards with an honest hand
A modest man, aware of any con or scam
Palm trees, magnum Don Ps, LV monograms
Hottest girls flew from Rio
Mojitos, mucho frio, my libido
Sex so strong, without the E though
Hollow threats, we don’t see those
Higher death toll whenever we roll
That process is pivotal
My pitiful poverty struck criminals will get a Jew
Then we lounge in a Spanish-style house
‘Til it all blows over, Dolce Gabbana'd out
Contemplatin’, there is no bond with Satan
Say a little prayer for me like Aretha Franklin
For my hustlers, here’s some motivation
He who has begun is half done, why you waitin’?
I’m too impatient to pray, too much patience for stress
It’s too much paper to rest, fuck around, you face death
I know some niggas from Astoria
That’ll cut your daughter up
Like I used to cut a quarter up
Makin’ all the bucks, banana clips I bought in Georgia bucks
Kill all you fucks, easy
I be on the golf cart, sleepy
Y’all beneath me
Y’all be at the pawn shop, pawnin’ watches
Obnoxious, can’t stop us, we shottas
Say you killin’ Pablo? Impossible
Nonsense, preposterous, bizarre at best
Unfulfilled promises
I feel intelligence is my wealth
However, how enormous is Nas’ pockets is a pop quiz to gossipers
See me at the Oscars, lookin’ dreamy, hood opulent
Means esoteric, how I wore it
Exoticness makes you curious to see how serious my closet is
Shareholders wanna invest in that Nas stock, it’s just
We be on that real shit, luxury four-wheel shit
Niggas actin’ thirst on some just-got-a-deal shit
Ha, for that victory we will kill shit
Get out the way, playboy, this is real shit

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