Letra Based on true events pt. 2 Nas

Based on true events pt. 2

One, two, three, four
Yeah, huh
Uh-huh, yeah
Yeah
Uh-huh, one, two
Yeah
Strange out here
Yeah, yeah
Chapter one

Fresh cut, lined up, his hair clean, it's not a fair game
Can't trust how they move, and his solitaire chain
His bust down Cuban whippin' the 'Rari truck
Cuts down the music, he got a call that was confusin'
Heard this kid said in front of that dude somethin' that never happened
Somethin' bein' perceived like it's beef, but it's street gossip
It's nothin', ain't 'bout no cash and hung up the phone
He can tell by the sound of his tone
Next time we see him, it might have to be on
Four Seasons with the heaters
He pull in the valet, he playin' Jackson 5, Maria
Pourin' good burgundy, drinkin' wine by the liter
Million dollar ideas, son a thinker, but he's surrounded by negative peers, minds of seventh graders
Several haters, several losses, had to get his weight up
"Happy belated gorgeous", he sent the text to his ex
Her tattooed chest where her necklace rest, she covered his name
Thinkin' to himself no other girl could love him the same
She replied, "We still celebratin', come out to Spain"
He jumped right on the plane
He had bright orange leather luggage when he arrived
At the world's oldest restaurant since 1725, Madrid was live
Lookin' in this woman's eyes
Lookin' where his name used to be now covered with butterflies had a few Spanish connects from touchin' pies
Just to summarize, he knew a couple guys who had a couple ties
To make that shipment touchdown safe
Secured the situation, told shorty, "I'm out, bae"

End of Chapter one
Chapter two

Nigga plottin' on the plane, crunchin' the numbers
Thinkin' how this move gonna help him fuck up the summer
Told his dog who to meet and what he pickin' up from him
Dog said, "We solid, I got you, nigga, we bubblin'"
Since Jamella out in Queens used to have him living lovely
She sat down it didn't sing, she got out, he had her comfy
Thinkin' 'bout coppin' that fly estate with five acres
Three hours from JFK, watching Knicks versus Lakers
When the game was over, he dozed off
When he landed, his man wouldn't answer his phone calls
Did he take it or is he locked behind a stone wall?
Did the Feds wait in undercover patrol cars?
Tried to tell himself not to panic, don't go so far
But what's the law of averages when you done broke laws?
He had to do the math on this, he can't take no loss
Keepin' his poise
At the end of the day, he know that he can trust in his boy

Chapter three

Baggage claim, hurry the fuck up
Askin' TSA, "Is that conveyor belt stuck or what? What's the delay?"
Satan's work, hopin' the devil don't fuck up his day
He had to factor in the facts when it came to the play
He remembered his face last time he was loadin' the safe
Heard him say, "You ain't the only rich nigga who in this place"
Fuck tryna relax
He had to pull up everywhere that this nigga be at
Said, "It ain't like my nigga, know he ain't dip with the stash"
Hold on, I'm almost at the climax
Shots ring out, soundin' like some loud hi-hats
His dog got popped at the place of the transaction
Dudes from Spain set him up, straight flattened
On Flatbush Avenue, a restaurant in the back room
They took the money and drugs and shot him in his half moon
Doin' my homework on IG
Under his last picture says, "R.I.P."