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)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
