Metin dökümü (en)

Hey yo nasty Nas what up? Ain't nothing a lot of cowards frontin' I hear what you're saying But yo this is all love for me you know No doubt smoke no cowards it still matters Ma I'm sorry who the fuck I am I can't trust my fans Out of luck no constructive plans My friends stay powdered up I'm so drunk can't stand You said if I was sober up I'd be a powerful man Turned out the street light You prayed I wouldn't But every church in the world can't save our children I stayed out late, you heard shots, thought it would be Your oldest son on the ground dead, but fortunately Them bullets had some other names on it, a brother was blind I hit the L, then we yell out, it wasn't my time Then loaded up shells, one by one, you smelled blunts from my room door Little Nasir was at war, and little did I care what you saw Proved deep with a few heat, now it's time we settle a score But in the projects, I visit Muhammad and Lenin Garment Teaching man, woman, and child, the living prophet And I'm similar, Nasir, Benalud, Darab, Rishkul, Alar Fist full of dollars in the dice game, God The ice king, God The black price, elegant stance Clothes fit me like the crime boss The medicine man I see the world collapsing Young pregnancies, young girls are fastening They Sassoon Jean, no prophylactic All this fashion and fly Jerry Now makes my eyes teary NY City grab a hole and ride with me Rip the freeway Shoot through Memphis with money bags Stop at Billy order cheese steaks And eat beans fast And bring it back up top remove the fake king of New York You show off I count Dolph When you sample my voice I rule you Before you used to rap like the Poosh Nickens Nas designed your blueprint, who you kidding? Is he H to the Izzo, M to the Izzo? Push Izzo, you phony, the rapper version of Cisco And that's for certain you clone me, yo, I clothesline I'd rather Sean John bore me with your fake coke rhymes In those times I never took place, you liar Un was your first court case You had no prize, you master fabricated stories of streets and sounds slick Have you surrounded you and the faggot you down with? Why they rockin' knives, tryna boost their career? Corn is corn, mega, all you hip-hop quits It's still Matic, it was written, I am Not so diamond, that's the answers to the puzzle I gave you Now here's a promise, my next few albums instead of projects Could be a difficult test, decide to cover for the mines I've become in my hood, but bring the guns with you It's dark, headed to Brooklyn, Queens, Harlem, Staten and Bronx Headed to Compton, Oak Town, South Central and Watts New Orleans, Mississippi, shot down every block. I'm trying to have my positive ways. I put my rhymes on page. Dead crimes and headline on stage. I signed a contract. So here it is, it happened. Streets disciple, I'm still mad at it. You make me feel so good.