[Intro]42nd Street Terminal!
[Verse 1: Nas]
Yo, yo, I live it and I speak it, my religion is reefer,
Big money and the most uninhibited freak to sleep with;
My visions are realistic, nothing is figurative,
I can wish it into existence, God want this nigga to live,
Blunt big as a dread, I get high and forget who bled,
Who we stomp-kicked in the head and who we left for dead.
Who are you niggas? Why argue niggas?
The truth is the truth, I really put my scars on niggas,
They wear them lifetime, they tell they hoes, Nas did this,
Pointin’ to they scars like, ‘
Right here, baby, really Nas did this!’Like a badge of honor, not braggin’ I’m just honest,
War stories, we tell them, nothing’s realer than karma,
Sip prohibition liquor, prohibition whiskey,
Rap Jack Dempsey, matte black Bentley, pimply.
Shatterin’ your silence, passin’ round the chalice
Due to my Indian ancestry at the weed dispensary.
Official kings and gents is who I mix and mingle with,
Fuck your ice, I rock rubies, amethyst,
I’ll fuck your wife ‘cause she a groupie, scandalous,
This for my bad hood bitches, ghetto glamorous.
Yo, what we talkin’ ‘bout, niggas?
What we talkin’ ‘bout, niggas?
This is Nas! What? Nas!
What? Nasty! What? Recollect, fucker!
[Verse 2: Nas]
At seventeen I made seventeen thousand livin’ in public housing,
Integrity intact, reppin’ hard,
They askin’ how he disappear and reappear back on top,
Sayin’ Nas must have naked pictures of God or something.
To keep winning is my way like Francis,
As long as I’m breathin’, I’ll take chances,
A soldier comin’ home, twenty years old with no legs,
Sayin’ there’s no sense to cry and complain, just go head.
So much to write and say, yo I don’t know where to start,
So I’ll begin with the basics and flow from the heart,
I know you think my life is good ‘cause my diamond piece,
But my life been good since I started findin’ peace.
I shouldn’t even be smilin’, I should be angry and depressed,
I been rich longer than I been broke, I confess,
I started out broke, got rich, lost paper then made it back,
Like Trump bein’ up down up, play with cash.
My nigga’s like a locomotive.
Nas, we push it, mush ’em!
Queensbridge to Bushwick,
You ain’t even supposed to be here,
You know where you at.
[Verse 3: Nas]
At night, New York, eat a slice too hot,
Use my tongue to tear the skin hangin’ from the roof of my mouth,
Shit was felicissimo, meltin’ pot, city swelterin’ hot,
Staggerin’, drunker than those cops that 2
I was a crook by the train with that iron thing, concealed reachin’,
Soon as I heard them iron wheels screechin’,
When it came to a halt, whoever walked off got caught,
Token man safe behind a locked door for sure.
Minor thief shit, minor league shit, beastin’,
Lookin’ for the juks young, but now we older chiefin’,
In my truck, play The Greatest Adventures of Slick Rick,
Buggin’ on how his imagination was so sick.
It’s ghetto beef, sinister niggas snicker through yellow teeth,
Alcohol agin’ my niggas faster than felonies,
How dare I, must be, something in the air that corrupts me,
Look at my upkeep, owned and sublease, I’m here, y’all.
This for my trapped in the 90’s niggas,
For my trapped in the 90’s niggas.
Ha, for y’all niggas!