[Intro: Naisha (Triggnomm)]
  Yo this shit's recording kid
  So drop some jazz shit (drop some shit)
  Drop some jazzy shit, (put the blunts down)
  Drop some jazzy shit, (son set it off, set it off)
  
  [Naisha]
  The State of Naisha, mug like Tai Yung
  Piss fruit wine, travel like fruit flies
  Through blue skies, America, San Pucci can take
  Cushion, I owe extinction, and play bronze
  Wit violins, we deep like talons
  It's Costello, the classic M.J. smoke weed says
  Live like the life on ya R.C.A.
  The odyssey, blood and poetry, the shako wit pottery
  A mockery, to slay me a Mussolini wit Kennedy
  Muscle me, Emilio Savage team
  Goodfellas is obscene, my off the can is fuck up the scene
  Bonjour Madame, sushi, you bleed burgundy
  Oh sanata, doing a bada, Benjamin on Pearl Harbor
  Uh, you feeling it, spoke the smooth words of Shawn Carter
  My day will hood ya rob saga, the city in red
  Seen the crew, dealt the income, seven P.M.
  Bermuda tennis, remember in the A.M.
  Shit like stankon, or bredren, we spread like tiger bomb
  Twisted and feel it on, black espionage
  Bump Nas, crack the Naisha, all in favor
  
  [Chorus 2X: Triggnomm]
  It's a jazzy rhyme from the J to the Z
  
  Wit a classic shine like a '98 M3
  Smooth as Badu, slow mo' from Malibu
  To Honolulu, The Massive, we comin' through
  
  [Triggnomm]
  Peep the latest, medallions players
  My scene is a drop top black Beem, interior mint green
  Plus loaded, pass Naish' the dice, bet he roll it
  4-5-6, stock bank, now we holdin'
  Niggas is cucci, we absolutely get the lucci
  Son, I love money, like Ricky love Lucy
  In fact, I know this cat in Colorado named Ricardo
  Pushin' milato's, money and murder was his motto
  He read the Bible, that's only cuz he live the trifle
  New his days were numbered the surface of disciple
  Meanwhile, he stay browsin' for housin'
  Cuz black cats just can't play these maps wit thousands
  Ice jewels, cuz cash rule, keep a two
  True hard knock, take that ass straight to school, son
  I got a feeling we gon' rise this far
  Word bonds, scratchin' my palm, eatin' shrimp parmegan
  True Don Juan, wit the iced out clusters on
  You gots to hustle, then son, get ya hustle on
  You gots to gamble, then son, get ya gamble on
  Big Trigga, best believe, I'm gon' handle long
  
  [Chorus 4X]