“I made it like that, I bought it like that, I’m livin like that” (repeat 2X)
Kool Keith from the Ultramagnetic MC’s ‘Ease Back’

[Nas]
Yo; I never brag, how real I keep it, cause it’s the best secret
I rock a vest, prestigious, Cuban link flooded Jesus
in a Lex watchin Kathie Lee and Regis
My actions are one with the seasons
A tec squeezin – executioner, winter time I rock a fur
Mega popular, center of attraction
Climaxin, my bitches they be laughin
They high from sniffin coke off a twenty-cent Andrew Jackson
City lights spark a New York night
Rossi and Martini sippin, Sergio Tachinni flippin mad pies
low price, I blow dice and throw em
Forty-five by my scrotum, manifest the “Do or Die” slogan
My niggaz roll in ten M3’s
Twenty Gods poppin wheelies on Kawasaki’s
Hip-Hop’s got me on some ol’, sprayin shots like a drumroll
Blankin out and never miscount the shells my gun hold
I don’t stunt, I regulate
Henny and Sprite, I seperate, watchin crab niggaz marinate
I’m all about tecs and good jooks and sex
Israelite books, holdin government names from Ness
MC’s are crawlin out, every hole in the slum
You be aight like blood money in a pimp’s cum

“I made it like that, I bought it like that, I’m livin like that”
“I made it like that, I bought it like that, I’m livin like that..
.. for, you wack MC’s”

[Nas]
Currency is made in trust of the Messiah
I’m spending it to get higher
Earth, Wind, and Fire singing reasons why I’m
up early, trustworthy is a nine that bust early
Sunshine on my grill, I spill
Remi on imaginary graves, put my hat on my waves
Latter Day Saints say religious praise
I dolo, challenge any team or solo
You must be buggin out, new to my shit, home on a furlough
Ask around, who’s laid up, sharp and straight up
Mafioso, gettin niggaz wigs sprayed up
Skies are misty, my life’s predicted by a gypsy
I’ll one day walk into shots drunk off champange from Sicily
This be the drama, I’ma pause like a comma
in a sentence, paragraph’s indented
Bloodshot red eyes, high, yellow envelopes of lye
Openin cigars, let tobacco fly
Condos are tuneproof, we’re looking out the sky’s moonroof
Shittin like gin and prune juice
Yo the system wants the coon’s noose, hang em high
Courtrooms filled up, it’s off the hook while I
just wrote a statement, like I’m facing twenty years
in the basement – chilling on the via with Mumia
for wearin chrome – I told the judge snakes slither
like Sharon Stone, but like Capone I’m thrown (yo)

“I made it like that, I bought it like that, I’m livin like that”
“I made it like that, I bought it like that, I’m livin like that..
.. for, you wack MC’s”
“I made it like that, I bought it like that, I’m livin like that”
“I made it like that, I bought it like that, I’m livin like that..
.. for, you wack MC’s”

[Nas]
Lyrical, ly-lyrical mission..
Lyrical..
Yo the time is wastin, I use the mind elevation
Dime sack lacin, court pen pacin
Individual, lyrical math abrasion
Psychic evaluation, the foulest nation
We livin in, dangerous lives, mad leak and battered wives
A lifestyle where bad streets is patternized
Wise men build and destroy
While the real McCoy dopefiend, named Detroit is still dealin boy
Coke suppliers actin biased
Cause rumors say that niggaz wear wires and we liars
But every night the gat’s fired, and every day a rat’s hired
I still remain the mack flyest in the phat Kani, it’s —
— just the killer in me, slash drug dealer MC
Ex-slug filler, semi mug peeler
Demi, bottles of Mo’, yo simply follow me flow
Put poetry inside a crack pot and blow
rough holes for cracked out pussies and buttholes
Bring the G’s and the D’s roll, they can’t touch those
Why shoot the breeze about i

(“Nas is . . .” -Nas) 7x

[Nas]
Freedom or jail, clips inserted, a baby’s bein born
Same time my man is murdered, the beginning and end
As far as rap go, it’s only natural, I explain
My plateau, and also, what defines my name
First it was Nasty, but times have changed
Ask me now, I’m the artist, but hardcore, my science for pain
I spent time in the game, kept my mind on fame
Saw fiends shoot up, and do lines of cocaine
Saw my close friends shot, flatline am I sane?
That depends, carry Mac-10’s to practice my aim
On rooftops, tape cd covers to trees
Line the barrel up with your weak picture then squeeze
Street scriptures for lost souls, in the crossroads
To the corner thugs hustlin for cars that cost dough
To the big dogs livin large, takin it light
Pushin big toys, gettin nice, enjoyin your life
is what you make it, suicide, few try to take it
Belt tied around they neck in jail cells naked
Heaven and hell, rap legend, presence is felt
And of course N – A – S are the letters that spell . . .
NAS, NAS

Chorus: scratching by DJ Premier (2X)

“Nas is like life or death.. I’m a rebel.. ”
“My poetry’s deep, I never fell..”
“Nas is like.. half man half amazing..”
“No doubt..”

[Nas]
“Nas is like..” Earth Wind & Fire, rims and tires
Bulletproof glass, inside is the realest driver
Planets in orbit, line em up with the stars
Tarot cards, you can see the pharaoh Nas
“Nas is like..” Iron Mike, messiah type
Before the Christ, after the death
The last one left, let my cash invest in stock
Came a along way from blastin, techs on blocks
Went from Seiko to Rolex, ownin acres
From the projects with no chips, to large cake dough
Dimes, givin fellatio, siete zeros
Bet my nine spit for the pesos
But what’s it all worth, can’t take it when you under this Earth
Rich men died and tried, but none of it worked
They just rob your grave, I’d rather be alive and paid
Before my number’s called, history’s made
Some’ll fall, but I rise, thug or die
Makin choices, that determine my future under the sky
To rob steal or kill, I’m wondering why
It’s a dirty game, is any man worthy of fame?
Much to success to ya, even if you wish me the opposite
Sooner or later we’ll all see who the prophet is

Chorus

[Nas]
“Nas is like..” Sex to a nympho, but nothin sweet
I’m like beef, bustin heat through your windows
I’m like a street sweeper, greenleaf reaper
Like Greeks in Egypt, learnin somethin deep from they teachers
I’m like crime, like your nine, your man you would die for
Always got you, I’m like Pop Duke you would cry for
I’m like a whole lot of loot, I’m like crisp money
Corporate accounts from a rich company
I’m like ecstasy for ladies, I’m like all races
combined in one man; like the ’99 summer jam
Bulletproof Hummer man
I’m like being locked down around new faces, and none of em fam’
I’m the feelin of a millionaire spendin a hundred grand
I’m a poor man’s dream, a thug poet
Live it, and I write down and I watch it blow up
Y’all know what I’m like, y’all play it your system every night
Now..

Chorus

[Nas]
Uh, 2000 G

Yo, I need an encore y’all, you should welcome me back
You wanna ball till you fall, I can help you with that
You want beef? I could let a slug melt in your hat
Cuz I’m a wild barbarian, too hard, I’m scarin’ ’em
Century 21 solar eclipse
While you listenin’ to the words that I wrote on the disc
Thelonius, my description is do-rags, pants sag down to my feet
AK is my heat, everyday in the street till I lay six feet
QB, PJs, and we playin’ for keeps
Jewelry, cars and Jeeps is my motto
Four-fives with the hollows, silencers on the nozzles
Pop bottles with those who left here
The best years, wearin a bulletproof vest years
The aim for the head and chest years
What’s your name? Make your name known
For the next year’s, better rep, yeah

1- Nasty, Nas the Esco to Escobar
Now he is Nastrodamus
Nasty, Nas the Esco to Escobar
Now he is Nastrodamus

Nasty, Nas the Esco to Escobar
Now he is Nastrodamus
Nasty, Nas the Esco to Escobar
Now he is Nastrodamus

I let y’all niggas bang my shit before Saddam hits
The Nastrodamus tell us what time it is
I was the first one on that Don shit
First nigga to sing a hook on some TJ Swan shit
Black ski masks up in the projects, camoulflage, full clips
Run up in your crib, tie up your bitch
Weigh the bricks and we loco, so broke, brown coke won’t sell
Spendin’ your money on weed, smoke and hotels
Hood rats and bullet wound up females
Got babies by hustlers and niggaz in jail
Slingin for chips and fiends with burnt finger tips
Base heads, killed cab drivers just for a hit
A week later, sportin’ Gators, gettin’ thrills
Our honies wearin’ Gucci high heels
She come to scoop me, I chill
Leave streets alone for a sec
Hit the sky bar, sunset, and the sex is so high-tech
Uh

Repeat 1

Now, lounge homeboy, you in the Godly zone
Rest in peace, Ill Will, now your name’s in the throne
We gon’ rep it the best that we can
Physically, you was killed by the weapons of man
But where you at now, you lamp laid in Mac’s now
Where Bravehearts put they rap down in honor of your name, you a legend
And they don’t understand how you see over from heaven
But that’s another level, brethren
Tow G’s, we got the type fam with Mac 11’s
We do squeeze, thought it’s not right
But that’s the zone that we left in
Bentleys, Porches, DRJ watches
Sick with the bread, Lamborghini trucks topless
Laptops with 100 gigabytes, ninja bikes
And we all roll dice, for each other’s ice
And how does one guy multiply to more than five wise guys?
But only one man, only the mind’s eyes, can understand that I’m…

Repeat 1

Ill Will
Nastrodamus
New LP for the 2G
Uh
Bravehearts
Nation
Big Things
Lucciano
Oh, the Lord again
M-O-B-B Deep
Zaire
Jungle
Raise hope

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

[Nas]
Uhh
Yo, yo-yo, y’all
Whattup? Whattup
It’s time man (Word, it’s time?)
Straight up, it’s time man
Aight, set that shit off
(Set it off then nigga, set it off)

Broken glass in the hallway, bloodstained floors
Neighbors, look at every bag you bring through your doors
Lock the top lock, momma shoulda cuffed me to the radiator
Why not? It might’ve saved later from my block
N.Y. cops, hookers crawlin off the stroll, coughin
stitches in they head, stinkin and I dread thinkin they be snitchin
But who else, could it be, shook at these, unmarked vans
Parked in the dark — NARC’s, where’s your heart?
Hustlers starve; they bust a U-e I jog
to my building — come out later wearin camouflage
See the sergeant and the captain — strangle men
Niggaz gaspin for air; til they move no more and just stare
with dead eyes — tired of riots, shit is quiet
Simple-minded fools infiltrate grimy crews
Overcrowded cribs, uncles home from bids, sister’s pregnant
father’s on drugs, moms is smokin, beds is piss-infested
Had eight partners growin up, eight turned to seven
Seven turned to six niggaz, got two in heaven
Six of us, holdin it, now it’s five rollin thick
The sixth one’s parole flipped; five niggaz, went to fo’ quick
when he went O.T., college life, converted into gangbangin
Four niggaz still hangin, years passed and slang changin
Three of us now, fourth nigga ain’t around
We all thought he was real — he did the snake shit
Fake shit — beat his ass down, yo his mouth
could’ve got us all wasted, what a fuckin clown
All I got left in the end is two of my best friends
And we all goin out, to the death for these ends, WHAT?

New York, New York (“New York state of mind” -> Rakim)
New York, New York (“New York state of mind” -> Rakim)
*repeat while Nas is talking*

You heard about it, you see about it
You read about it, it’s in your papers
It’s in your daily news (“Get money!”)
New York chronicles, every day
The crime rate, the murder rate
The money rate, the paper chase, youknowhatImean?
New York state of mind baby, check it out

[Nas]
I’m at the, gamblin spot, my hands on a knot
New York Yankee cap cover my eyes, stand in one spot
I take a nigga dough, send him home, to a shoebox
You lost that nigga I put your dollar in the jukebox
Hear my favorite song, all these niggaz sing along
All the ciggarette smoke’s cloggin my lungs, hoodrats flashin they tongue
Young thugs blastin they gun, we got reputations
Bitches and niggaz both on parole or probation
Shit is sick, niggaz got gats, army fatigues
I got my eyes glued on, whoever walk in the lead
Cause I ain’t playin, niggaz’ll run up in here and shoot up this shit
Stick yo’ ass up, niggaz’ll find the loot in your kicks
Bunch of triple-cross niggaz, just New York niggaz
Lift you off your feet when they was just talkin with you
Some of these dudes the Feds be on em, you knew em for years
Be the type when you walk in a pub, they offer you beers
That ain’t gangsta, niggaz is up North with tatted tears
Your name’s on the affadavit, you ratted kid
Faggot-ass niggaz that be scared to do they bids
Fuck you, we run you out of N.Y, you can’t live
Got your quiet niggaz, that relocated down South
comin back to floss, then you got the jealous loudmouths
All of a sudden we got Crips and Bloods, D.T.’s
runnin round quick to split your mug, it’s ea-sy to score
but it’s hard to get the shit off
Niggaz fightin over hundred sales, jump in the car and drive off
When the fiend come around the block, happy as hell
Niggaz, mad cause they ain’t get a piece of that sale
Cutthroat connivers, universal, ghetto survivors
Go to any hood that’s live and make it liver
A lot of niggaz scheamin, some real, s

[Chorus]
Picture us married, you and me; K-I-S-S-I-N-G
I remember the first time, girl you and me; F-U-C-K-I-N-G
Girl picture us married, you and me; K-I-S-S-I-N-G
I remember the first time, girl you and me; F-U-C-K-I-N-G

[Nas]
She was the modern Isis, honey thought she was priceless
Perfect definition what a wife is, I like this
Showed me how excitin life is
I used to hang around dudes that used ice picks
The sheistiest, put you on they heist list
How we met it must have been fate
First date, crushed grapes, we ate lobster and steak
She kept asking questions how the cash made how my rent’s paid
How many guns I sprayed and huns I laid
She said she want to have a family raise kids someday
Like out in Beverly Hills she wanna live one day
I can get with that I drop you off home
I call you hit me back
I wanna dig that and did I? I did that
Put it way up where her ribs at, her future kids had
You held out for two weeks, longer than these hoodrats
You precious more precious than lost treasure
Matter of fact I’m kinda hopin we can stay together

[Chorus]

[Nas]
I see you dressed up in white face covered in vail
Do I hear wedding bells? My dogs throwin rice
And it’s the day that your father give you away
to a real man that gently put the ring on your hand
Do we vow to stay faithful? Do more than try to
Now, look me in my eyes and say I do
Drivin off in the Rolls Royce just married on the plates
We can spend our honeymoon in the states
You can throw your friend the bouquet
Somethin in the back of my head say
For us two, maybe cuz I love you
Hug you squeeze you touch you tease you
As long as we together it’s heaven for me to please you
Won’t stop til I tell you me to beautiful
Deeper and harder love layin new with you
Runnin my fingers through your hair it’s like days can go by
while I’m wit you and I won’t even care, word

[Chorus]

[Nas]
She been with young dudes, old guys, Hindus, pa-pi’s
Colombians who cut pies, but none of them can touch Nas
Thug ones to those soft as baby shit
She been with hoodlums and those who had crazy chips
Til one day she decided to flip
It was nuttin I can do about it, like she the boss and shit
Started talkin this divorcin shit
I gave her my half rib, half my crib, half my cake
Half my car, half my kids? Can’t get that
Tried to swing on the God, had to dip that
Yo, push her on the bed, lift her leg, had to rip that
All she wanted was rough sex, with her slick ass
Had to sit back, smoke a blunt and just look
With her fine-ass body and a damn good cook
For some reason yo she had me stuck and I had her in my web too
You my queen God bless you

[Chorus 2X to fade]

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 Mlcom X catching the Jungle Fever
King poetic, too much flava, Im major
Atlanta and braver, I pull a number like a pager
Cuz 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, iwear chains that excite the feds
And aint’ a damn thing gonna change
?’m a perform a strange show the mic wonder was born the game?
Nas, why did you do it
You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it’s halftime

Right…
It’s halftime…

It’s like that, you know it’s like that
I got at him, 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 wit my own rhyme
Cuz 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 to never run it
Wit more kicks than a baby in a mother’s stomach
Nasty Nas has to rise, kid, surprise
This is exercise til the microphone dies
Back in ’83, I was an MC sparking
But I was too scared to grab the mic’s in the park and
Kick my little raps cuz I thought niggaz wouldn’t understand
And now in every jam I’m the phucking 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 a 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 fould 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

I got it going 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 or heartless Sparkton
Cuz when I blast the herb, that’s my word
I be slaying them fast, doing this, that in the third
But chill, past the entree and let’s lay
I bag bitches up at John Jay and hit a mantinee
Putting hits on 5-0
Cuz 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 Manhatten, the island of Staten
Brooklyn, Queens is living fat and
The Boogie Down, enuff props, enuff clout
Illwill, rest in peace, yo, I’m out

Right…
It’s still halftime

[Chorus 2X: Nas]
(I’m cryin gangsta tears) Only a few can feel my pain
(I’m cryin gangsta tears) Only if I could show you
(I’m cryin gangsta tears) Only if you was in this game
(I’m cryin gangsta tears) You’d feel the whirlwind blow you

[Nas]
My daily dose is ferocious
I smoke dope, just as strong as opium
Hopin I’m close to just breakin frustration;
speakin on podiums
Facin this cold world head-on, dead on arrivals
Young black, poor education guns crack
The gang violence done that
Nighttime, the guns blow, streets got snitches
dealers, bitches, killers and blunt smoke, clubs open
Benzes, Jeeps, dubs pokin out tires
Thugs with heat, pay security, to let them slide in
Huh, I’m at the corner driftin, sippin, Cognac
To’ back, know dat soldiers is packin no secret
Though I’m broken hearted women done left me hopeless in darkness
Smokin, driftin in sickness, stand by oceans watch the sun glisten
I’m soul-searchin, I’m soul-hurtin
What happens when money don’t make you happy
I wish this on no person
Ate at the classy places, made all my fashion statements
I got no friends I’m lonely, don’t want no pity save it

[Chorus]

[Nas]
Yo, ride in the nighttime, I’m high, got on my flight suit
Hood with the night sign, dark colors on
Pull up the block my brother’s on
I hug him and we blow trees (sup nigga?) Scopin for police
Guns on our hip, fiends want a fix, stumblin tricks (right here)
We left the drug game alone
Brothers is jealous cause we still call the hood our home
What could you tell us?
At funerals my eyes swell up (damn)
Look at my dog lay in the casket
Twin shotgun barrels had blasted
And rest in peace for him, is all I could whisper
as I paid respect, kissed his face and felt hard skin
It’s part of God’s plan, but why so many niggaz have to die?
It’s crowded in this place, let the priest and pastor by
Bandana covers my eye, I’m scopin through the room
I see killers and thieves, mob bosses and goons
And yet I feel responsible when my nigga’s pronounced dead
inside the hospital, I wish there’s somethin I could do, but..

[Chorus]

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer* (repeat 8X)

Verse One: RBX

While childish MC’s battle over coastal fronts
I come with no fronts and smash in monkey fronts
If you want to be evil like Knieval then jump
I guarantee your punk ass catch the speed lump
The tactics, extract, morbid thoughts from the mental
custom designed, for instrumental
Yes indeedy, lyrical graffiti
And this one’s a burner, baby
Truck, like Toyata driven
True and livin drivin with the gat
Uhh, pop the clutch, let the Cold Crush rush
Then I flush wack material
That’s if I don’t mash them all to mush
Hush, let me burst, dare I gush
Cock-diezel cuts
Lyrical arsenal equivalent to arsenic

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer* (repeat 4X)

Verse Two: KRS-One

Yo, why do they make me wanna ruin they career?
Before I bust your shit let’s get one thing clear
Don’t provoke Kris no joke this
I don’t ride no rapper’s nutsac yo I stay focused
Beefin without skills seekin will only weaken
The artist speakin over beats and, you be cheatin
Cacaphony of small talent rappers, claimin a coast
over instrumentals, ain’t got no real street credentials
Here come the philosopher hip-hopppin ya correctly
Ignorant ass MC’s continue to tempt me
Lyrics be empty like Alcatraz cellblock
Too many MC’s rappin causin lyrical gridlock
Lyrical syllables interlock in my voicebox
Yet I’m still unknown like the X on Sadat
Just your typical, non-topical
Flex the optical illusion weak metaphoric style you be usin
I check one-two’s and who’s in the house
Like shit your lyrics ooze out ya mouth
Whattyou think this is? KRS-One from the Bronx kid!

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer* (repeat 8X)

Welcome to the New World Order
You are now under martial law
All constituional rights have been suspended

Verse Three: B-Real

The most scandalous, cut the bad apple, we can handle this
Coast trippin goin on through out the business
East Coast West Coast anybody killer!
I don’t give a fuck where you from I’ma Killa Hill-er
I got crews on both sides together
Deeper than the ocean and down for whatever
Fool I can roll through any block
from Central to Westland Avenue, without my glock
But some niggaz can’t survive on both sides
So they try and break off, eliminate ties
Fools got to get wise, better realize
True, enemy lies killin in the highrise
office, analyzing the song
Look at them red niggaz, don’t even get along
Kill that noise, four niggaz bringin the skill
Mad caps get peeled if you oppose the Hill

Yeah that’s right fool, you know who, the mighty Group Therapy
The mighty mighty Aftermath brigade, letting all you sound boys know
You’re not ready to rumble or test this
Kill that noise!

East coast *killer*, West coast *killer (repeat 8X)

Verse Four: Nas

Now when I bomb like Sadaam, the world feels The Wrath of Khan
Desert Storm in this modern day Babylon
I be the twelve disciples strap arms
All black on running your spot hit the safe and I’m gone
Like a thief wrong, I keep the long 38 warm
Silent and calm, and blackout when the beef is on
Focus on your rap holsters, notice
I’m evil like the Exorcist to the locusts
Ferocious thoughts, are mergin at night
Like Jehovah towards the virgin in white
I’m wrapped in a turban for spite
Like a Israelite snatchin hoes up, my flow’s up
When the fuckin world blows up throw your hands up
It’s a holdup, frontin like you down for the real
to make a meal, but when plan fold, nigga you squeal
like Heavy Heel, but what’s the fuckin deal?

East coast *killer* West coast *killer* (repeat 16X)
Check out more Lyrics from Dr. Dre F/ Group Therapy (B-Real, KRS-One, Nas, RBX). 
Write a comment and let everybody know what you think this song is about!