(Chorus: Nas and Snoop Dogg)
If God for me, who could be against me?
I guess all them niggas that's against me
They the ones stirrin' up the conflict
They try to make it out like I'm conflicted, bitches
East Coast niggas in six-fours hittin' switches (Shit)
It's not a conflict of interest
Cuh, them niggas with the business
West Coast niggas rockin' them Timberlands
Deep up in them trenches, it's no difference
(Verse 1: Snoop Dogg)
Neither one play games when swingin' for them fences
We want the finer things, the shit that's expensive
The shit that hit 'em either close range or at a distance
If God for me, nigga, why bother?
I got my game from the Godfather (Woof)
Top of the food chain, rock bottom
And handled my business when it was my problem
G shit, nigga, flossin' with a gold chain
I got my Turkish rope with matchin' gold fangs
Bomber jacker in the winter, it's a cold game
I mess with East Coast niggas up in Spokane (What up?)
Some of the realest niggas in this dope game
I got my curly top lookin' like Special Ed
Clean fade on the side bumpin' that Redhead
Clean tags when I ride, duckin' the fed-feds
East Coast niggas, they get that bread-bread
You **** with them niggas, you end up dead-dead
Them West Coast niggas, they leave that lead spread
And now you got bullets all in your dread head
(Chorus: Nas and Snoop Dogg)
If God for me, who could be against me?
I guess all them niggas that's against me
They the ones stirrin' up the conflict
They try to make it out like I'm conflicted, bitches
Still tryna **** the richest
East Coast niggas in six-fours hittin' switches (Shit)
It's not a conflict of interest
Cuh, them niggas with the business
West Coast niggas rockin' them Timberlands
Deep up in them trenches, it's no difference
(Verse 2: Snoop Dogg)
Fourth and inches, I'm finna hit a lick, and handle business
I got a down bitch, she real vicious
Rock-a-bye baby, no witness
This is not even a conflict, you niggas on nonsense
Niggas die the same way in Brooklyn and Compton
But niggas with that gang-gang, them niggas make a profit
Niggas on top, niggas stay poppin', look
See, I was the high school Slick Rick, I was stylin'
Fat gold chain with an African medallion
Hip-hop connoisseur and Rollin' 20 Crippin'
Rap game real tight, freestyle was magnificent
All about the clout, and all about my dividends
Them older niggas couldn't tell me different
I need a round the way girl to let me stick it in
Showtime at the Apollo
I'm drinking O.E. up out the bottle
Take two swigs and pour out a little liquor
For my niggas who won't live to see tomorrow
(Outro: Nas)
If God for me, who could be against me?
I guess all them niggas that's against me
They the ones stirrin' up the conflict
They try to make it out like I'm conflicted