Freedom or jail, clip's inserted, a baby's being time a man is murdered, the beginning and end As far as rap go, it's only natural I My plateau, and also, defines my name First it was Nasty, but times have Ask me now, I'm the artist, but hardcore, my for pain I spent in the game, kept my mind on fame Saw fiends shoot up and do lines of Saw my close friends shot, flatline am I depends, carry Mac-10's to practice my aim On rooftops, tape CD covers to Line the barrel up with your weak picture then Street scriptures for lost souls, in the To the corner hustling for cars that cost dough To the big living large, taking in light Pushing big toys, getting nice, enjoying your Is what you make it, suicide, few try to it Belt around their neck in jail cells naked Heaven and hell, rap legend, is felt And of course N-A-S are the that spell NAS, NAS
"Nas is like" Earth, Wind & Fire, and tires Bulletproof glass, inside is the driver Planets in orbit, 'em up with the stars cards, you can see the pharaoh Nas "Nas is like" Iron Mike, messiah the Christ, after the death The last one left, let my cash in stock Came a along way from blasting, on blocks Went Seiko to Rolex, owning acres From the projects with no chips, to large dough Dimes, fellatio, siete zeros Bet my nine spit for the But what's it all worth, can't take it with you under this Rich men and tried, but none of it worked They just rob your grave, I'd rather be alive and Before my number's called, history's fall, but I rise, thug or die Making choices, that determine my under the sky To rob steal or kill, I'm why It's a game, is any man worthy of fame? Much success to you, even if you me the opposite Sooner or later we'll all see who the is
"Nas is like" Sex to a nympho, but nothing I'm like beef, bustin heat your windows I'm a street sweeper, green leaf breather Like Greeks in Egypt, learning somethin deep from teachers I'm like crime, like your nine, your man you die for Always got you, I'm like Pac dude you cry for I'm like a whole lot of loot, I'm crisp money Corporate accounts from a rich I'm ecstasy for ladies, I'm like all races in one man; like the '99 summer jam Bulletproof man I'm being locked down around new faces, and none of 'em fam I'm the feeling of a millionaire a hundred grand I'm a poor dream, a thug poet it and I write down and I watch it blow up Y'all know what I'm like, y'all it your system every night Now