• Street Poet
    Seznam skladeb na albu
  • Street Poet


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

    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

    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

    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

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