How many humans ever wrote something like this. the combination of skill and intelligence it takes to create something like this. I think we really take hiphop for granted. most of the old school rappers were young geniuses. These guys were creating shyt the Harvard professors couldn't do with no resources. just a mic booth a drum beat.
everything from the the metaphors, story telling, keep it all consistent in one 3 min song, nobody can tell me hiphop isnt one of the greatest musical forms ever created
[Intro: Nas]
Yea, uh, uh, real nikkaz dawg, ya heard
Yea, journey to the life, just journey
[Verse One: Nas]
I'm the nikka that ain't loud
Throw C-low, never ace out
Only move out wit a particular crew, I hate crowds
The observer, money and murder the hood praise it
I was raised in it, early age
Was presented with the ultimatum
Be a boss with a army, drop the Atari games
Hard cocaine that had my neighborhood strung out
Brains numb out, guns out
I was smart high hopes in my heart
But dope cartels would emerge
Bloody shirts on nikkaz while they hollerin'
'Til their lungs don't work
Figures I end up with a scarred memory of my youth
With dudes in the drug loot, feelin' henny "SHOOT"
My nikka Will still here, man I wish it was truth
Buried in his favorite shyt, FILA sneakers and FILA suit
My eyes are the window of my soul
My nikkaz let the Indo roll
Thinkin' time flies we gettin' old
That's the words of my right hand man, my main dawg
We been rollin since day one, he down for the cause
All he talk is extortion, kidnap shyt, big gat shyt
I'm like - "yo think positive", but he act sick
He only think about lettin' his Mac spit
He like fukk who he hit
Me it bothers, 'cause he know I'm rent 'em it regardless
If he keep wildin' out he's makin' both of us targets
So I pull him, tell him on some deep shyt, try to school 'em
We already lost nikkaz by how we was movin'
We still livin', but our lives need much improvin'
I think I'm gonna lose 'em
[Verse Two: Nas]
Feelin' like I got the dons clout
Trigger pawn cocked glocks spray up your moms spot
I ain't playin' wit you, war, fukk pistols
Bring machines, icy bell buckles, ten guns, M-1'S with ice muzzles
Life's a struggle, get your wifey touch too, everybody involved
Homicide, doctors patchin' up your war scars
Task Force chargin' at us, news flash, thug crews blast at officers
Coroners pick you up from the grass
Livin' fast 'til somebody tries meltin' my chest
I'm high loosin' it, could of hit my own self with the tec
Refuse to quit, but I tried tellin' me to relax
It's like I can't hear my words 'til I'm trapped to the max
Even then I blame everybody else except me, pops left me
I was just three, I cried for help, moms was busy
That don't mean nikka's stupid
But I got a habit wit - makin' up excuses
Was born ruthless, hated school, they ain't teach me I'm a bad seed
Planted in this ghetto, where my nikkaz can't read
Multiply, subtract; only knowin' how to count cracks and count stacks
Now what y'all know about that
One side of me wanted out of this life
Glue traps on the floor for the mice
'Til the nikka saw the light
I wanted money when I got it, I would spend it
I wanted jewels, but when I heard it, yo I wouldn't listen
All of the drama in my life I got my self into
All the toxins my body took in, faded my mental
I let these nikkaz words get to me
But I'm tired of my ice, tired of Bentley
It's the end of the century
I recognized the world is a beautiful place
nikkaz opinions ruinin' my musical taste
'Cause everytime I caught a case, could of got me in jail
If you wasn't scared of jail, you more likely to fail
I thought the whole world was cursed, from the hand I was dealt
And +My Worst Enemy+ was my self
Word to my self...word to my self...word to my self...
everything from the the metaphors, story telling, keep it all consistent in one 3 min song, nobody can tell me hiphop isnt one of the greatest musical forms ever created
[Intro: Nas]
Yea, uh, uh, real nikkaz dawg, ya heard
Yea, journey to the life, just journey
[Verse One: Nas]
I'm the nikka that ain't loud
Throw C-low, never ace out
Only move out wit a particular crew, I hate crowds
The observer, money and murder the hood praise it
I was raised in it, early age
Was presented with the ultimatum
Be a boss with a army, drop the Atari games
Hard cocaine that had my neighborhood strung out
Brains numb out, guns out
I was smart high hopes in my heart
But dope cartels would emerge
Bloody shirts on nikkaz while they hollerin'
'Til their lungs don't work
Figures I end up with a scarred memory of my youth
With dudes in the drug loot, feelin' henny "SHOOT"
My nikka Will still here, man I wish it was truth
Buried in his favorite shyt, FILA sneakers and FILA suit
My eyes are the window of my soul
My nikkaz let the Indo roll
Thinkin' time flies we gettin' old
That's the words of my right hand man, my main dawg
We been rollin since day one, he down for the cause
All he talk is extortion, kidnap shyt, big gat shyt
I'm like - "yo think positive", but he act sick
He only think about lettin' his Mac spit
He like fukk who he hit
Me it bothers, 'cause he know I'm rent 'em it regardless
If he keep wildin' out he's makin' both of us targets
So I pull him, tell him on some deep shyt, try to school 'em
We already lost nikkaz by how we was movin'
We still livin', but our lives need much improvin'
I think I'm gonna lose 'em
[Verse Two: Nas]
Feelin' like I got the dons clout
Trigger pawn cocked glocks spray up your moms spot
I ain't playin' wit you, war, fukk pistols
Bring machines, icy bell buckles, ten guns, M-1'S with ice muzzles
Life's a struggle, get your wifey touch too, everybody involved
Homicide, doctors patchin' up your war scars
Task Force chargin' at us, news flash, thug crews blast at officers
Coroners pick you up from the grass
Livin' fast 'til somebody tries meltin' my chest
I'm high loosin' it, could of hit my own self with the tec
Refuse to quit, but I tried tellin' me to relax
It's like I can't hear my words 'til I'm trapped to the max
Even then I blame everybody else except me, pops left me
I was just three, I cried for help, moms was busy
That don't mean nikka's stupid
But I got a habit wit - makin' up excuses
Was born ruthless, hated school, they ain't teach me I'm a bad seed
Planted in this ghetto, where my nikkaz can't read
Multiply, subtract; only knowin' how to count cracks and count stacks
Now what y'all know about that
One side of me wanted out of this life
Glue traps on the floor for the mice
'Til the nikka saw the light
I wanted money when I got it, I would spend it
I wanted jewels, but when I heard it, yo I wouldn't listen
All of the drama in my life I got my self into
All the toxins my body took in, faded my mental
I let these nikkaz words get to me
But I'm tired of my ice, tired of Bentley
It's the end of the century
I recognized the world is a beautiful place
nikkaz opinions ruinin' my musical taste
'Cause everytime I caught a case, could of got me in jail
If you wasn't scared of jail, you more likely to fail
I thought the whole world was cursed, from the hand I was dealt
And +My Worst Enemy+ was my self
Word to my self...word to my self...word to my self...
