Released: July 2, 1996

Featuring: Foxy Brown Cormega AZ

Songwriter: Tone Dave Atkinson Poke Nas Foxy Brown Cormega AZ

Producer: Dave Atkinson Trackmasters

[Produced by Dave Atkinson & Trackmasters]

[Intro: AZ]
This is what, this what they want, huh?
This is what it's all about?
Word, time to take Affirmative Action, son
They just don't understand, you kna'mean?
Niggas comin' sideways, thinkin' stuff is sweet, man
Niggas don't understand the four devils
Lust, envy, hate, jealousy—wicked niggas, man

[Verse 1: AZ]
Yo, sit back, relax, catch your contact
Sip your con-gi-ac
And let's all wash this money through this laundromat
Sneak attack, the new cats in rap worth top dollar
In fact, touch mines and I'll react like a Rottweiler
Who could relate? We play for high stakes at gunpoint
Catch 'em and break
Undress 'em, tie 'em with tape, no escape
The Corleone, fettuccine Capone
Roam in your own zone
Or get kidnapped and clapped in your dome
We got it sewn, The Firm art of war is unknown
Lower your tone, face it, homicide cases get thrown
Aristocrats, politickin' daily with diplomats
See me, I'm an official mack, Lex Coupe triple black

[Verse 2: Cormega]
Criminal thoughts in the blue Porsche
My destiny's to be the new boss
That nigga Paulie gotta die, he too soft
That nigga's dead on, a ki of heroin
They found his head on the couch with his dick in his mouth
I put the hit out
Yo, the smoothest killer since Bugsy, bitches love me
In Queens where my drugs be, I wear Guess jeans and rugbies
Yo, my people from Medina, they will see ya when you re-up
Bring your heater, all your cream go between us
Real shit, my Desert Eagle got an ill grip
I chill with niggas that hit Dominican spots and steal bricks
My red beam made a dread scream and sprayed a Fed team
Corleone be turnin' niggas to fiends
Yukons and ninja black Lexus
'Mega the pretty boy with mafia connections
It's The Firm, nigga, set it!

[Verse 3: Nas]
Yo, my mind is seein' through your design like Blind Fury
I shine jewelry, sippin' on crushed grapes, we lust papes
And push cakes inside the casket at Just wake
It's sickenin', he just finished biddin' upstate
And now the projects is talkin' that somebody-gotta-die shit
It's logic, as long as it's nobody that's in my clique
My man Smoke know how to expand coke in Mr. Coffee
Feds cost me two mill' to get the system off me
Life's a bitch, but God forbid the bitch divorce me
I'll be flooded with ice, so Hell fire can't scorch me
Cuban cigars, meetin' Foxy at Demars, movin' cars
Your top papi Señor Escobar

[Verse 4: Foxy Brown]
In the black Camaro, Firm deep
All my niggas hail the blackest sparrow
Wallabee's be the apparel
Through the darkest tunnel
I got visions of multi millions in the biggest bundle
In the Lex pushed by my nigga Jungle
E Money bags got Moët Chandon
Bundle of sixty-two
They ain't got a clue what we about to do
My whole team, we shittin' hard like Czar
Sosa, Foxy Brown, Cormega and Escobar
I keep a fat marquess piece, laced in all the illest snake skin
Armani sweaters, Carolina Herrera
Be The Firm, baby, from BK to the Bridge, my nigga Wiz
Operation Firm Biz, so what the deal is?
I keep a phat jew-el, sippin' Cristy
Sittin' on top of fifty grand in the Nautica Van, uh
We stay incogni' like all them thug niggas in Marcy
The gods, they praise Allah with visions of Gandhi
Bet it on my whole crew is Don Juan
On Cayman Island with a case of Cristal
And Baba Shallah spoke
Nigga with them Cubans that snort coke
Raw though, an ounce mixed with leak, that's pure though
Flippin' the bigger picture
The bigger nigga with the cheddar was mad dripper
He had a fuckin' villa in Manilla
We got to flee to Panama, but wait, it's half-and-half
Ki's is one and two-fifth, so how we flip?
32 grams raw, chop it in half, get 16
Double it, times three, we got 48, which mean a whole lot of cream
Divide the profit by four, subtract it by eight, we back to 16
Now add the other two that 'Mega bringin' through
So let's see, if we flip this other ki
Then that's more for me, mad coke and mad leak
Plus a five hundred cut in half is two-fifty
Now triple that times three
We got three quarters of another ki

[Outro: Foxy Brown]
The Firm, baby, Vol. 1

Nas

Nasir bin Olu Dara Jones, known to one and all as Nas, is one of hip-hop’s best-known, most mercurial, and lyrically blessed figures ever to touch the microphone. Since his heart-stopping debut turn on Main Source’s “Live at the Barbeque,” Nas has delivered countless beautifully structured, thought-provoking, keenly observed verses.

Growing up in Queens, NY, Nas never really performed in big crowds—he kept to himself. Nas used a different type of vernacular that others didn’t understand, which helped him to stand out from other rappers from his era.

With every ensuing album, Nas always reminds fans that he’s still the same Queensbridge MC who crafted one of the greatest albums of all time, and arguably the bible of Hip-Hop, Illmatic.