Through the lights cameras and action, glamour glitters and gold
I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe
When I'm deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast
to conquer peace leaving savages to roam in the streets
Live on the run, police paying me to give in my gun
Trick my Wisdom, with the system that imprisoned my son
Smoke a gold leaf I hold heat, nonchalantly
I'm grungy, but things I do is real it never haunts me
while, funny style niggaz roll in the pile
Rooster heads profile on a bus to Riker's Isle
Holdin weed inside they pussy with they minds on the
pretty things in life, props is a true thug's wife
It's like a cycle, niggaz come home, some'll go in
Do a bullet, come back, do the same shit again
From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable
Guns salute life, rapidly, that's the ritual
Verbal Intercourse - Nas
Lyrical, ly-lyrical mission..
Lyrical..
Yo the time is wastin, I use the mind elevation
Dime sack lacin, court pen pacin
Individual, lyrical math abrasion
Psychic evaluation, the foulest nation
We livin in, dangerous lives, mad leak and battered wives
A lifestyle where bad streets is patternized
Wise men build and destroy
While the real McCoy dopefiend, named Detroit is still dealin boy
Coke suppliers actin biased
Cause rumors say that niggaz wear wires and we liars
But every night the gat's fired, and every day a rat's hired
I still remain the mack flyest in the phat Kani, it's --
-- just the killer in me, slash drug dealer MC
Ex-slug filler, semi mug peeler
Demi, bottles of Mo', yo simply follow me flow
Put poetry inside a crack pot and blow
rough holes for cracked out pussies and buttholes
Bring the G's and the D's roll, they can't touch those
Why shoot the breeze about it, when you could be about it?
My degrees are routed, toward the peasy haired brick houses
instead of the fake medallions
Rich niggaz transport in thousands
Foreign cash exchange amountin to millions
Doors is locked, rocks is chopped, watch the cameras in the ceilings
Trick bitches catching mad feelings
Peelin off in the Lex Jeep, techniques is four-wheelin
I bet it be some shit when we connect with Stretch
When we catch them sex niggaz with the tecs you blessed, word
So now it's on, never wasted a slug,
Time is money when it comes to mine, take it in blood
Take It In Blood - Nas
One for the money
Two for pussy and foreign cars
Three for Alize niggaz deceased or behind bars
I rap divine Gods check the prognosis, is it real or showbiz?
My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses
Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for real
A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja
Here's my basis, my razor embraces, many faces
Your telephone blowin, black stitches or fat shoelaces
Peoples are petrol, dramatic automatic fo'-fo' I let blow
and back down po-po when I'm vexed so
my pen taps the paper then my brain's blank
I see dark streets, hustlin brothers who keep the same rank
Pumpin for somethin, some uprise, plus some fail
Judges hangin niggaz, uncorrect bails, for direct sales
My intellect prevails from a hangin cross with nails
I reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's real
Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats
I decifer prophecies through a mic and say peace.
I hung around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats
They spoke of Fat Cat, that nigga's name made bell rings, black
Some fiends scream, about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing
Uptown was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin, yo
Fuck 'rap is real', watch the herbs stand still
Never talkin to snakes cause the words of man kill
True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my veins
I pour my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane
Memory Lane - Nas