Bài hát The Message Báo Lỗi

Fake thug, no love, you get the slug, CB4 Gusto

Your luck low, I didn't know til I was drunk though

You freak niggaz played out, get fucked and ate out

Prostitute turned bitch, I got the gauge out

96 ways I made out, Montana way

The Good-F-E-L-L-A, verbal AK spray

Dipped attache, jumped out the Range, empty out the ashtray

A glass of 'ze make a man Cassius Clay

Red dot plots, murder schemes, thirty-two shotguns

Regulate wit my Dunn's, 17 rocks gleam from one ring

Yo let me let y'all niggaz know one thing

There's one life, one love, so there can only be one King

The highlights of livin, Vegas style roll dice in linen

Antera spinnin on Milleniums, twenty G bets I'm winnin them

Threats I'm sendin them, Lex with TV sets the minimum

Ill sex adrenaline

Party with villians, a case of Demi-Sec to chase the Henny

Wet any clique, with the semi-tech who want it

Diamonds I flaunt it, chickenheads flock I lace em

Fried broiled with basil, taste em, crack the legs

way out of formation, it's horizontal how I have em

fuckin me in the Benz wagon

Can it be Vanity from Last Dragon

Grab your gun it's on though

Shit is grimy, real niggaz buck in broad daylight

with the broke Mac it won't spray right

Don't give a fuck who they hit, as long as the drama's lit

Yo, overnight thugs, bug cause they ain't promised shit

Hungry-ass hooligans stay on that piranha shit


[Chorus: samples from "New York State of Mind" (repeat 4X)]


"I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death" -> [Nas]

"I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin" -> [Nas]


[Nas]

I peeped you frontin, I was in the Jeep

Sunk in the seat, tinted with heat, beats bumpin

Across the streat you was wildin

Talkin bout how you ran the Island in eighty-nine

Layin up, playin the yard with crazy shine

I cocked a baby 9 that nigga grave be mine, clanked him

What was he thinkin on my corner when it's pay me time

Dug em you owe me cousin somethin told me plug him

So dumb, felt my leg burn, then it got numb

Spun around and shot one, heard shots and dropped son

Caught a hot one, somebody take this biscuit 'fore the cops come

Then they came askin me my name, what the fuck

I got stitched up and went through

Left the hospital that same night, what

Got my gat back, time to backtrack

I had to drop so how the fuck I get clapped

Black was in the Jeep watchin all these scenes speed by

It was a brown Datsun, and yo nobody in my hood got one

That clown nigga's through, blazin at his crew daily

The 'Bridge touched me up severely hear me?

So when I rhyme it's sincerely yours

Be lightin L's sippin Coors, on all floors in project halls

Contemplatin war niggaz I was cool with before

We used to score together, Uptown coppin the raw

But uhh, a thug changes, and love changes

and best friends become strangers, word up


[Chorus: first from "New York State of Mind", then "Halftime" (repeat 4X)]


"Y'all know my steelo" -> [Nas]

"There ain't an army that could strike back" -> [Nas]


[Nas]

Thug niggaz

Yo, to them thug niggaz gettin it on in the world you know?

To them niggaz that's locked down

doin they thing survivin yaknowmsayin?

To my thorough niggaz, New York and world wide

Yo to the Queensbridge Militia

9-6 shit.. The Firm clique, Illmatic nigga

It Was Written though

It's been a long time comin

Y'all fake niggaz, tryin to copy

better come with the real though

Fake ass niggaz yo..

(They throw us slugs we throwin em back, what?)

Bring the shit man, live man

(Fuck that son)

Nine-six shit..