Альбом Nas

[sound of a subway train going overhead]
[in the background, Nas' verse from Main Source "Live at the BBQ" is heard]
[excerpt of verse is as follows]

(Street's disciple, my raps are trifle
I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle
Stampede the stage, I leave the microphone split
Play Mr. Tuffy while I'm on some Pretty Tone shit
Verbal assassin, my architect pleases
When I was twelve, I went to ... )

[conversation heard over this before Wild Style music kicks in is as follows]
[dialogue from the film between ZORO and his infantryman brother, Hector]

[Hector:] And you're sitting at home doing this shit? I should be earning a
medal for this. Stop fucking around and be a man, there ain't nothing out
here for you...

[ZORO:]
Oh yes there is...this!

[somebody from the Firm]
Yo Nas
Yo what the fuck is this bullshit on the radio Son?
[Nas]
Chill chill, that's the shit God, chill
[AZ the Visualiza]
Aiyyo yo, pull down the shade, man.
Let's count this money, nigguh
Aiyyo Nas, put the Jacksons and the Grants over there
You know what I'm sayin?
Cause we spendin the Jacksons
[Nas]
Right, yeah.
[AZ]
You know how we get down baby
[Nas]
True, true"
[the Firm]
Nas, yo Nas, man shit is mad real right now in the Projects
for a nigga yo, word to mother. All them crab ass rappers
be comin up to me man word to mother man I think we need
to let them niggaz know it's real man
[Nas]
True indeed, knahmsayin, but when it's real you doin this
even without a record contract, knahmsayin?
[AZ]
No question
[Nas]
Been doin this since back then
[the Firm]
No doubt
[AZ]
I'm saying regardless how it go down we gon keep it real
We trying to see many mansions and...and Coupes kid!
[Nas]
No doubt, we gon keep it real
True, true...
[the Firm]
Aiyyo where's Grand Wizard and Mayo at man?
Takin niggas a long time, man..."
[Nas]
Who got the Phillies? Take this Hennessey
[AZ]
Aiyyo Dunn! C'mon, c'mon, man stop waving that man
Stop pointing that at me Dunn, take the clip out
[Nas]
Nigga alright but take this Hennessey man
[AZ]
I'm saying take the clip man
C'mon, take it out...
[Nas]
Light them Phillies up man
Niggaz stop fucking burning Phillies man
Light some Phillies up then!
[the Firm]
Pass that Amber Boch, pass that Amber Boch, nigga! Act like you know.
[AZ]
Yo, we drinking this straight up with no chaser
I ain't fucking with you nigga
[Nas]
I'm saying though man...
[AZ]
What is it, what is it baby?
[the Firm]
What is it Son, what is it?
[AZ]
You know what time it is
[Nas]
I'm saying man, ya know what I'm saying?
Niggaz don't listen man, representing
It's Illmatic.

[Intro: Nas]

Yeah yeah, aiyyo black it's time (word?)
(Word, it's time nigga?)
Yeah, it's time man (aight nigga, begin)
Yeah, straight out the fuckin dungeons of rap
Where fake niggaz don't make it back
I don't know how to start this shit, yo, now

[Verse One: Nas]

Rappers I monkey flip em with the funky rhythm I be kickin
Musician, inflictin composition
of pain I'm like Scarface sniffin cocaine
Holdin a M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, now
Bulletholes left in my peepholes
I'm suited up in street clothes
Hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes
Y'all know my steelo with or without the airplay
I keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairway
Or either on the corner bettin Grants with the celo champs
Laughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken amps
G-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk shit
Remeniscing about the last time the Task Force flipped
Niggaz be runnin through the block shootin
Time to start the revolution, catch a body head for Houston
Once they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass and
I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassin
Pick the Mac up, told brothers, "Back up," the Mac spit
Lead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflip
Heard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn't look
Gave another squeeze heard it click yo, my shit is stuck
Try to cock it, it wouldn't shoot now I'm in danger
Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber
So now I'm jetting to the building lobby
and it was filled with children probably couldn't see as high as I be
(So whatchu sayin?) It's like the game ain't the same
Got younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they name
and claim some corners, crews without guns are goners
In broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on us
Fo'-fives and gauges, Macs in fact
Same niggaz'll catch a back to back, snatchin yo' cracks in black
There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked
So hold your stash until the coke price drop
I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock
And if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo
You gotta slide on a vacation
Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin
It drops deep as it does in my breath
I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined
I think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind

["New York state of mine" --> Rakim (repeat 4X)]

[Verse Two: Nas]

Be havin dreams that I'ma gangster -- drinkin Moets, holdin Tecs
Makin sure the cash came correct then I stepped
Investments in stocks, sewein up the blocks
to sell rocks, winnin gunfights with mega cops
But just a nigga, walking with his finger on the trigger
Make enough figures until my pockets get bigger
I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin
Give me a Smith and Wessun I'll have niggaz undressin
Thinkin of cash flow, buddah and shelter
Whenever frustrated I'ma hijack Delta
In the P.J.'s, my blend tape plays, bullets are strays
Young bitches is grazed each block is like a maze
full of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packed
From what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back, black
I'm livin where the nights is jet black
The fiends fight to get crack I just max, I dream I can sit back
and lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewn
Or the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, homes
I got so many rhymes I don't think I'm too sane
Life is parallel to Hell but I must maintain
and be prosperous, though we live dangerous
cops could just arrest me, blamin us, we're held like hostages
It's only right that I was born to use mics
and the stuff that I write, is even tougher than dice
I'm takin rappers to a new plateau, through rap slow
My rhymin is a vitamin, Hell without a capsule
The smooth criminal on beat breaks
Never put me in your box if your shit eats tapes
The city never sleeps, full of villians and creeps
That's where I learned to do my hustle had to scuffle with freaks
I'ma addict for sneakers, twenties of buddah and bitches with beepers
In the streets I can greet ya, about blunts I teach ya
Inhale deep like the words of my breath
I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
I lay puzzle as I backtrack to earlier times
Nothing's equivalent, to the new york state of mind

["New York state of mind" --> Rakim (repeat 4X)]
["Nasty Nas" --> cut and scratched 8X]

[A] Aiyyo, wassup wassup let's keep it real son
Count this money, yaknowhatI'msayin?
[N] Yea yea
[A] Aiyyo, put the Grant's over there in the safe yaknowhatI'msayin?
[N] Yea yea
[A] Cause we spendin these Jackson's
The Washington's go to wifey, you know how that go
[N] I'm sayin, that's what this is all about right?
Clothes, bankrolls, and hoes yaknowhatI'msayin?
Yo then what man, what?? [echoes]

[Verse One: AZ the Visualiza]
Visualizin the realism of life and actuality
Fuck who's the baddest a person's status depends on salary
And my mentality is, money orientated
I'm destined to live the dream for all my peeps who never made it
cause yeah, we were beginners in the hood as five percenters
But somethin must of got in us cause all of us turned to sinners
Now some, restin in peace and some are sittin in San Quentin
Others such as myself are tryin to carry on tradition
Keepin the schwepervesence street ghetto essence inside us
Cause it provides us with the proper insight to guide us
Even though, we know somehow we all gotta go
but as long as we leavin thievin we'll be leavin with some kind of dough
so, and to that day we expire and turn to vapors
me and my capers-ll be somewhere stackin plenty papers
Keepin it real, packin steel, gettin high
Cause life's a bitch and then you die

[Chorus: AZ the Visualiza]
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we get high
Cause you never know when you're gonna go
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we puff lye
Cause you never know when you're gonna go
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we get high
Cause you never know when you're gonna go
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we puff lye
[--> chorus #1 echoes at the end]

Cause you never know when you're gonna go
Life's a bitch and then you die
[--> chorus #2 includes these lines, echoes at the end]

[Verse Two: Nas]
I woke up early on my born day, I'm twenty years of blessing
The essence of adolescent leaves my body now I'm fresh in
My physical frame is celebrated cause I made it
One quarter through life some God-ly like thing created
Got rhymes 365 days annual plus some
Load up the mic and bust one, cuss while I puffs from
my skull cause it's pain in my brain vein money maintain
Don't go against the grain simple and plain
When I was young at this I used to do my thing hard
Robbin foreigners take they wallets they jewels and rip they green cards
Dipped to the projects flashin my quick cash
and got my first piece of ass smokin blunts with hash
Now it's all about cash in abundance, niggaz I used to run with
is rich or doin years in the hundreds
I switched my motto -- instead of sayin fuck tomorrow
That buck that bought a bottle could've struck the lotto
Once I stood on the block, loose cracks produce stacks
I cooked up and cut small pieces to get my loot back
Time is Illmatic keep static like wool fabric
Pack a four-matic that crack your whole cabbage

[Chorus]

[Olu Dara plays trumpet until fade]

"It's yours!" --> [T La Rock]

[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]

[PR] Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?

I sip the Dom P, watchin Gandhi til I'm charged
Then writin in my book of rhymes, all the words pass the margin
To hold the mic I'm throbbin, mechanical movement
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
The fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck like a crack pipe
The mind activation, react like I'm facin time like
'Pappy' Mason with pens I'm embracin
Wipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phlegm on the streets
Suede Timb's on my feets, makes my cypher, complete
Whether crusin in a six-cab, or Montero Jeep
I can't call it, the beats make me fallin asleep
I keep fallin, but never fallin six feet deep
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Say what?)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Say what?)
I'm out for dead presidents to represent me

[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]

[PR] Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?

To my man Ill Will, God bless your life
"It's yours!"
To my peoples throughout Queens, God bless your life
I trip we box up crazy bitches aimin guns in all my baby pictures
Beef with housin police, release scriptures that's maybe Hitler's
Yet I'm the mild, money gettin style, rollin foul
The versatile, honey stickin wild, golden child
Dwellin in the Rotten Apple, you get tackled
Or caught by the devil's lasso, shit is a hassle
There's no days, for broke days, we sell it, smoke pays
While all the old folks pray, to Je-sus' soakin they sins in trays
of holy water, odds against Nas are slaughter
Thinkin a word best describin my life, to name my daughter
My strength, my son, the star, will be my resurrection
Born in correction all the wrong shit I did, he'll lead a right direction
How ya livin large, a broker charge, cards are mediocre
You flippin coke or playin spit spades in strip poker

"It's yours!"

[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]

[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
[Nas] Yo, the world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
"It's yours!"
[PR] Break it down

[Pete Rock cuts and scratches "It's yours!"]

I'm the young city bandit, hold myself down singlehanded
For murder raps, I kick my thoughts alone, get remanded
Born alone, die alone, no crew to keep my crown or throne
I'm deep by sound alone, caved inside in a thousand miles from home
I need a new nigga, for this black cloud to follow
Cause while it's over me it's too dark to see tomorrow
Trying to maintain, I flip, fill the clip to the tip
Picturin my peeps, now the income make my heartbeat skip
And I'm amped up, they locked the champ up, even my brain's in handcuffs
Headed for Indiana stabbin women like the Phantom
The crew is lampin big Willie style
Check the chip toothed smile, plus I profile wild
Stash through the flock wools, burnin dollars to light my stove
Walk the blocks wit a bop, checkin Danes plus the games
people play, bust the problems of the world today

"It's yours!"

[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]

[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
[Nas] Yeah... the world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
"It's yours!"
Break it down

Yea aight?
To everybody in Queens, the foundation
"It's yours!"
The world is yours
To everybody uptown, yo, the world is yours
"It's yours!"
The world is yours
To everybody in Brooklyn
Y'all know the world is yours
"It's yours!"
The world is yours
Everbody in Mount Vernon, the world is yours
"It's yours!"
Long Island, the world is yours
"It's yours!"
Staten Island, yea the world is yours
"It's yours!"
South Bronx, the world is yours
"It's yours!"
Aight

[Pete Rock keeps cuttin and scratchin "It's yours!" to fade]

(Right..) (Right..)
Check me out y'all, Nasty Nas in your area
About to cause mass hysteria

[Nas]
Before a blunt, I take out my fronts
Then I start to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
You couldn't catch me in the streets without a ton of reefer
That's like Malcolm X, catchin the Jungle Fever
King poetic, too much flavor, I'm major
Atlanta ain't Brave-r, I'll pull a number like a pager
Cause I'm am ace when I face the bass
40-side is the place that is giving me grace
Now wait, another dose and you might be dead
And I'm a Nike head, I wear chains that excite the feds
And ain't a damn thing gonna change
I'ma performer (?) show the mic warmer was born to gain
Nas, why did you do it?
You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's halftime

(Right..) It's halftime
(Right..) Aiyyo it's halftime
(Right..) It's halftime
(Right..) Yeah, it's about halftime
This is how it feel, check it out, how it feel

[Nas]
It's like that, you know it's like that
I got it hemmed, now you never get the mic back
When I attack, there ain't an army that could strike back
So I react never calmly on a hype track
I set it off with my own rhyme
Cause I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time
I'm max like cassettes, I flex like sex
in your stereo sets, Nas will catch wreck
I used to hustle, now all I do is relax and strive
When I was young, I was a fan of the Jackson 5
I drop jewels, wear jewels, hope to never run it
With more kicks than a baby in a mother's stomach
Nasty Nas has to rise cause I'm wise
This is exercise 'til the microphone dies
Back in eighty-three I was an MC sparking
But I was too scared to grab the mic's in the park and
kick my little raps cause I thought niggaz wouldn't understand
And now in every jam I'm the fuckin man
I rap in front of more niggaz than in the slave ships
I used to watch C.H.I.P.S., now I load glock clips
I got to have it, I miss Mr. Magic
Versatile, my style switches like a faggot
But not bisexual, I'm an intellectual
Of rap, I'm a professional and that's no question, yo
These are the lyrics of the man, you can't near it, understand
Cuz in the streets, I'm well known like the number man
In my place wit the bass and format
Explore rap, and tell me Nas ain't all that
And next time I rhyme, I be foul
Whenever I freestyle I see trial niggaz say I'm wow
I hate a rhymebiter's rhyme
Stay tuned, Nas, soon the real rap comes at halftime

(Right..) It's halftime
(Right..) Exhale, check it it's halftime
(Right..) It's halftime
(Right..) It's real in the field
Word life, check it

[Nas]
I got it goin on, even flip 'em on this song
Every afternoon, I kick half the tune
And in the darkness, I'm heartless like when the NARCs hit
Word to Marcus Garvey I hardly sparked it
Cause when I blast the herb, that's my word
I be slayin them fast, doing this that and the third
But chill, past to Andre, and let's slay
I bag bitches up at John Jay, and hit a matinee
Puttin hits on 5-0
Csudr when it's my time to go, I wait for God wit the fo'-fo'
And biters can't come near
And yo, go to hell to the foul cop who shot Garcia
I won't plant seeds, don't need an extra mouth I can't feed
That's extra Phillie change, more cash for that weed
This goes out to Manhattan, the island of Staten
Brooklyn and Queens is livin fat and
The Boogie Down, enough props, enough clout
Ill Will, rest in peace, yo, I'm out

(Right..) It's still halftime
(Right..) To the Queensbridge crew
To the Queensbridge crew, you know it's halftime
(Right..) Ninety-two, it's halftime
(Right..) Yo police, police man, yo let's get ghost
Halftime..

(Check that shit)
Aight fuck that shit, word word
Fuck that other shit, youknowhatI'msayin?
We gon' do a little somethin like this, yaknahmsayin?
(Is they up on this?)
Keep it on and on and on and on and..
KnowhatI'msayin? Big Nas, Grand Wizard, God what it is?
(What it is like?) Hah, knowhatI'msayin?
Yo go 'head, do that shit nigga

[Nas]
I rap for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and prisoners
Henessey holders and old school niggaz, then I be dissin a
unofficial that smoke woolie thai
I dropped out of Kooley High, gassed up by a cokehead cutie pie
Jungle survivor, fuck who's the liver
My man put the battery in my back, a differencem from Energizer
Sentence begins indented.. with formality
My duration's infinite, moneywise or physiology
Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop, straight off the block
I reminisce on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat
Childhood lesson make me see him drop in my weed smoke
It's real, grew up in trife life, did times or white lines
The hype vice, murderous nighttimes, and knife fights invite crimes
Chill on the block with Cog-nac, hold strap
with my peeps that's into drug money, market into rap
No sign of the beast in the blue Chrysler, I guess that means peace
For niggaz no sheisty vice to just snipe ya
Start off the dice-rollin mats for craps to cee-lo
With sidebets, I roll a deuce, nothin below (Peace God!)
Peace God -- now the shit is explained
I'm takin niggaz on a trip straight through memory lane
It's like that y'all .. it's like that y'all .. it's like that y'all

[Chorus: repeat scratches 4X]

"Now let me take a trip down memory lane" -> [BizMarkie]
"Comin outta Queensbridge"

[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

[Chorus]

"Comin outta Queensbridge" -> [scratched]

The most dangerous MC is..
"Comin outta Queensbridge" -> [scratched]

The most dangerous MC is..
"Comin outta Queensbridge" -> [scratched]

The most dangerous MC is..
"Comin outta Queensbridge" -> [scratched]

The most dangerous MC is..
Me numba won, and you know where me from

[Verse One]
Whattup kid? I know shit is rough doing your bid
When the cops came you shoulda slid to my crib
Fuck it black, no time for looking back it's done
Plus congratulations you know you got a son
I heard he looks like you, why don't your lady write you?
Told her she should visit, that's when she got hyper
Flippin, talk about he acts too rough
He didn't listen he be riffin' while I'm telling him stuff
I was like yeah, shorty don't care, she a snake too
Fucking with the niggaz from that fake crew that hate you
But yo, guess who got shot in the dome-piece?
Jerome's niece, on her way home from Jones Beach - it's bugged
Plus little Rob is selling drugs on the dime
Hangin out with young thugs that all carry 9's
at night time there's more trife than ever
Whattup with Cormega, did you see 'em, are y'all together?
If so then hold the fort down, represent to the fullest
Say whassup to Herb, Ice and Bullet
I left a half a hundred in your commisary
You was my nigga when push came to shove
One what? one love

[Verse Two]
Dear Born, you'll be out soon, stay strong
Out in New York the same shit is goin on
the crack-heads stalking, loud-mouths is talking
hold, check out the story yesterday when i was walking
the nigga you shot last year tried to appear like he hurtin' something
word to mother, i heard him fronting
and he be pumping on your block
your man gave him your glock
and now they run together, what up son, whatever
since I'm on the streets I'ma put it to a cease
but I heard you blew a nigga with a ox for the phone piece
Whylin on the Island, but now with Elmira
better chill cause them niggaz will put that ass on fire
Last time you wrote you said they tried you in the showers
but maintain when you come home the corner's ours
On the reels, all these crab niggaz know the deal
When we start the revolution all they probably do is squeal
But chill, see you on the next V-I
I gave your mom dukes loot for kicks, plus sent you flicks
Your brother's buck whylin' in four maine he wrote me
he might beat his case, 'til he come home I play it low key
so stay civilised, time flies
though incarcerated your mind (dies)
I hate it when your mum cries
it kinda wants to make me murder, for real-a
I've even got a mask and gloves to bust slugs for one love

[Verse Three]
Sometimes I sit back with a buddha sack
mind's in another world thinking how can we exist through the facts
written in school text books, bibles, et cetera
Fuck a school lecture, the lies get me vexed-er
So I be ghost from my projects
I take my pen and pad for the week
and hittin nails while I'm sleepin
A two day stay, you may say I need the time alone
to relax my dome, no phone, left the 9 at home
You see the streets have me stressed somethin terrible
Fuckin with the corners have a nigga up in Bellevue
or h.d.m., hit with numbers from 8 to 10
a future in a maximum state pen is grim
So I comes back home, nobody's helpin shorty doo-wop
Rollin two phillies together in the Bridge we called 'em oowops
He said, "Nas, niggaz could be bustin' off the roof
so I wear a bullet proof and pack a black tres-deuce"
He inhaled so deep, shut his eyes like he was sleep
Started coughing when I peeked to watch me speak
I sat back like the mack, my army suit was black
We was chillin' on these bitches where he pumped his loose cracks
I took an l when he passed it, this little bastard
keeps me blasted he starts talkin mad shit
I had to school him, told him don't let niggaz fool him
'cos when the pistol blows that's when a murder be the cool one
Tough luck when niggaz are struck, families fucked up
could've cought your man, but didn't look when you bucked up
Mistakes happen, so take heed never bust up
if the crowd catch him solo, make the right man bleed
shorty's laugh was cold blooded as he spoke so foul
Only twelve trying to tell me that he liked my style
Then I rose, wiping the blunts ash from my clothes
then froze only to blow the herb smoke through my nose
and told my little man that i'm a go cyprose
there's some jewels in the skull that he can sell if he chose
words of wisdom from nas try to rise up above
keep an eye out for jake shorty what
one love

[Intro: Nas and Large Professor]

Yeah, it's Illmatic (yeah)
It's Illmatic (yeah!)
It's Illmatic, huh
(yeah kick that shit)

[LP] One time 4 your mind, one time
[Nas] Yeah whatever
[LP] One time 4 your mind, one time
[Nas] Yo whatever
[LP] One time 4 your mind, one time
Aiyyo Nas (whattup Paul) kick that fuckin rhyme

[Verse One: Nas]

Check it out
When I'm chillin, I grab the buddha, get my crew to buy beers
And watch a flick, illin and root for the villian, huh
Plus every morning, I go out and love it sort of chilly
Then I send a shorty from my block to the store for Phillies
After being blessed by the herb's essence
I'm back to my rest, ten minutes some odd seconds
That's where I got the honey at, spends the night for sexing
Cheap lubrication, Lifestyle protection
Picking up my stereo's remote control quickly
Ron G's in the cassette deck, rockin the shit, G
I try to stay mellow, rock, well acapella rhymes'll
make me richer than a slipper made Cinderella fella
Go get your crew, Hobbes, I'm prepared to bomb troops
Got niggaz who's born, I shot my way out my Mom Dukes
When I was ten, I was a hip-hoppin shorty wop
Known for rocking microphones and twisting off a 40 top, yeah

[Chorus: Nas and Large Professor]

[LP] One time 4 your mind, one time
[Nas] Yeah whatever
[LP] One time 4 your mind, one time
[Nas] It sound clever
[LP] Hey yo Nas, fuck that, man that shit was fat
But kick that for them gangstas man, fuck all that

[Verse Two: Nas]

Right, right, what up niggaz, how y'all, it's Nasty the villian
I'm still writin rhymes but besides that I'm chillin
I'm trying to get this money, God, you know the hard times, kid
Shit, cold be starvin make you wanna do crimes kid
But I'ma lamp, cuz a crime couldn't beat a rhyme
Niggaz catching 3 to 9's, Muslims yelling free the mind
And I'm from Queensbridge, been to many places
as a kid when I would say that out of town, niggaz chased us
But now I know the time, got a older mind
Plus control a nine, fine, see now I represent mine
I'm new on the rap scene, brothers never heard of me
Yet I'm a meance, yo, police wanna murder me
Heine(ken) Dark drinker, represent the thinker
My pen rides the paper, it even has blinkers
Think I'll dim the lights then inhale, it stimulates
Floating like I'm on the North 95 Interstate
Never plan to stop, when I write my hand is hot
And expand alot from the Wiz to Camelot
The parlayer, I'll make ya heads bop Pah
I shine a light on perpetrators like a cop's car
From day to night, I play the mic and you'll thank God
I wreck shit so much, the microphone'll need a paint job
My brain is incarcerated
Live at any jam, I couldn't count all the parks I raided
I hold a Mac-11, and attack the Reverand
I contact 11 L's and max in heaven

[Outro: Nas, Large Professor, and ?]

[LP] Yo, one time 4 your mind, one time
[?] It sound clever
[LP] But one time 4 your mind, one time
[Nas] Yeah whatever
[LP] One time 4 your mind, one time
[Nas] Yo, from ninety-two to ninety-nine
[?] Yeah that shit was greasy fat Paul, knowhatI'msayin?
But check it, you gotta another verse for me
I want you to kick it, youknowhatI'msayin?
Kick that shit from the projects...

Represent, represent!! [repeat 4X]

Straight up shit is real and any day could be your last in the jungle
Get murdered on the humble, guns'll blast, niggaz tumble
The corners is the hot spot, full of mad criminals
who don't care, guzzlin beers, we all stare
at the out-of-towners (Ay, yo, yo, who that?) They better break North
before we get the four pounders, and take their face off
The streets is filled with undercovers, homicide chasin brothers
The D.A.'s on the roof, tryin to, watch us and knock us
And killer coppers, even come through in helicopters
I drink a little vodka, spark a L and hold a Glock for
the fronters, wannabe ill niggaz and spot runners
Thinkin it can't happen til I, trap em and clap em
and leave em done, won't even run about Gods
I don't believe in none of that shit, your facts are backwards
Nas is a rebel of the street corner
Pullin a Tec out the dresser, police got me under pressure

Represent, represent!! [repeat 4X]

Yo, they call me Nas, I'm not your legal type of fella
Moet drinkin, marijuana smokin street dweller
who's always on the corner, rollin up blessed
When I dress, it's never nuttin less than Guess
Cold be walkin with a bop and my hat turned back
Love committin sins and my friends sell crack
This nigga raps with a razor, keep it under my tongue
The school drop-out, never liked the shit from day one
cause life ain't shit but stress fake niggaz and crab stunts
So I guzzle my Hennesey while pullin on mad blunts
The brutalizer, crew de-sizer, accelerator
The type of nigga who be pissin in your elevator
Somehow the rap game reminds me of the crack game
Used to sport Bally's and Gazelle's with black frames
Now I'm into fat chains, sex and Tecs
Fly new chicKs and new kicks, Heine's and Beck's

Represent, represent!! [repeat 3X]

No doubt; see my, stacks are fat, this is what it's about
Before the BDP conflict with MC Shan
Around the time when Shante dissed the Real Roxxane
I used to wake up every mornin, see my crew on the block
Every day's a different plan that had us runnin from cops
If it wasn't hangin out in front of cocaine spots
We was at the candy factory, breakin the locks
Nowadays, I need the green in a flash just like the next man
Fuck a yard God, let me see a hundred grand
Could use a gun Son, but fuck bein the wanted man
but if I hit rock bottom then I'ma be the Son of Sam
Then call the crew to get live too
with Swoop, Hakim, my brother Jungle, Big Bo, cooks up the blow
Mike'll chop it, Mayo, you count the profit
My shit is on the streets, this way the Jakes'll never stop it
It's your brain on drugs, to all fly bitches and thugs
Nuff respect to the projects, I'm ghost, One Love

Represent y'all, represent!! [repeat 4X]

One time for your motherfuckin mind
This goes out to everybody in New York
that's livin the real fuckin life
And every projects, all over
To my man, Big Will he's still here [echoes]
The 40 side of Vernon
My man Big L.E.S.
Big Cee-Lo from the Don
Shawn Penn, the 40 busters
My crew the shorty busters
The 41st side of Vernon posse
The Goodfellas
My man Cormega, Lakid Kid
Can't forget Drawers, the Hillbillies
My man Slate, Wallethead
Black Jay, Big Oogi
Crazy barrio spot (Big Dove)
We rock shit, Ph.D
And my man Primo, from GangStarr
(Ninety-four real shit y'all, Harry O!)
Fuck y'all crab ass niggaz though...
(Yeah, bitch ass niggas!) [etc.]

It ain't hard to tell, I excel, then prevail
The mic is contacted, I attract clientele
My mic check is life or death, breathin a sniper's breath
I exhale the yellow smoke of buddha through righteous steps
Deep like The Shinin', sparkle like a diamond
Sneak a uzi on the island in my army jacket linin
Hit the Earth like a comet, invasion
Nas is like the Afrocentric Asian, half-man, half-amazin
Cause in my physical, I can express through song
Delete stress like Motrin, then extend strong
I drank Moet with Medusa, give her shotguns in hell
From the spliff that I lift and inhale, it ain't hard to tell

The buddha monk's in your trunk, turn the bass up
Not stories by Aesop, place your loot up, parties I shoot up
Nas, I analyze, drop a jew-el, inhale from the L
School a fool well, you feel it like braille
It ain't hard to tell, I kick a skill like Shaquille holds a pill
Vocabulary spills I'm +Ill+
plus +Matic+, I freak beats slam it like Iron Shiek
Jam like a tech with correct techniques
So analyze me, surprise me, but can't magmatize me
Scannin while you're plannin ways to sabotage me
I leave em froze like her-on in your nose
Nas'll rock well, it ain't hard to tell

This rhythmatic explosion, is what your frame of mind has chosen
I'll leave your brain stimulated, niggaz is frozen
Speak with criminal slang, begin like a violin
End like Leviathan, it's deep well let me try again
Wisdom be leakin out my grapefruit troop
I dominate break loops, givin mics men-e-straul cycles
Street's disciple, I rock beats that's mega trifle
And groovy but smoother than moves by Villanova
You're still a soldier, I'm like Sly Stone in Cobra
Packin like a rasta in the weed spot
Vocals'll squeeze glocks, MC's eavesdrop
Though they need not to sneak
My poetry's deep, I never fell
Nas's raps should be locked in a cell
It ain't hard to tell