Lyrics of 'Michael &Quincy' by Nas

Yeah, yeah, yeah (N— N— N— N— Nas)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Get your eardrum de-virignized
While the music is—
Hahaha

Eardrums de-virginized from the words of mine
Just a word of advice, you can't murder Nas
All my niggas certified, we got certain ties
Streets was our office, we didn't need a shirt and tie
M-I-A-M-I, weather like the Virgin Isles
I ain't got no jewelry on 'cause I'm made of ice
Element surprise, move with the passion of Christ

To Portofino, sittin' high in the cliff
From a younger dude with a crew and we was workin' the shift
Y'all South Park cartoon characters, I'm convinced
They never been scared to death while stayin' calm in a twist
I creeped in a jean jacket, headband and Nikes
I ain't like to dodge fights, as I rode my bike
And I was lookin' at these people, thinkin' they just might
Make me come out my cool character, break through the smooth barriers
Go crazy, CeeLo Green, Gnarls Barkley
Before I even pull to the spot, they try to park me
I'm used to dark scenes, that's why I spark green
Why I pour wine, they don't stock these, I gotta order mine
Malcolm X departed at the Audubon
Seen so many slaughtered I'm numb, never mortified
All-black Audemars, you claim yours was one-of-one
We timepiece monsters, every season, we be on the hunt
Jeepers creepers, America's a baby that's teethin'
Shittin' on itself, cryin' for it's next feedin'
As odd as it gets, it's not even a toddler yet
Gang members got nothin' on these congressmen
Plus Ray Liotta and James Caan died
Iconic actors who were redemption for these mob guys
We easin' on down the road for the third win
Who's bad? It's up and it's stuck, feel the whirlwind
Like young Quincy Jones, stuck outside the club
till Ray Charles snuck him in, ah, to be young again
But right now, it's like I got the power of a hundred men
Nas and Hit like Michael and Quincy on the run again
Eardrums de-virginized from the words of mine
Just a word of advice, you can't murder Nas
All my niggas certified, we got certain ties
I'm activated, my hair might spark flames
Aviator frames, bandages, laminates, a stage
From a stretcher, I wave
Even if I never had two arms full of Grammys
Or a sponsor from Pepsi, I'd still be honorary
Like Quincy on the trumpet, Hit-Boy on a drum kit
Nasty like Mike on the vocals, I overdub it
Bouncin' off the wall, always startin' somethin'
Behind the scenes of the Thriller video, big budgets
Moonwalkin', smooth criminal talkin'
I'm changin' colors right now till I'm dark-skinned
Adam Clayton Powell, complexion of Baldwin's
Annie, are you okay watchin' me transformin'?
Pinky ring glitter like the socks and the glove
Know some money-gettin' thugs that could buy The Beatles pub
That's what I really call coppin' white, re-in' up