expwy. to yr skull
Join Date: Mar 2006
Location: Maryland
Posts: 2,262
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nas' second verse in "the world is yours"
To my man Ill Will, God bless your life "It's yours!"
To my peoples throughout Queens, God bless your life
I trip we box up crazy bitches aimin guns in all my baby pictures
Beef with housin police, release scriptures that's maybe Hitler's
Yet I'm the mild, money gettin style, rollin foul
The versatile, honey stickin wild, golden child
Dwellin in the Rotten Apple, you get tackled
Or caught by the devil's lasso, shit is a hassle
There's no days, for broke days, we sell it, smoke pays
While all the old folks pray, to Je-sus' soakin they sins in trays
of holy water, odds against Nas are slaughter
Thinkin a word best describin my life, to name my daughter
My strength, my son, the star, will be my resurrection
Born in correction all the wrong shit I did, he'll lead a right direction
How ya livin large, a broker charge, cards are mediocre
You flippin coke or playin spit spades in strip poker
nas, "it ain't hard to tell" (probably my favorite hip hop song of alltime)
It ain't hard to tell, I excel, then prevail
The mic is contacted, I attract clientele
My mic check is life or death, breathin a sniper's breath
I exhale the yellow smoke of buddha through righteous steps
Deep like The Shinin', sparkle like a diamond
Sneak a uzi on the island in my army jacket linin
Hit the Earth like a comet, invasion
Nas is like the Afrocentric Asian, half-man, half-amazin
Cause in my physical, I can express through song
Delete stress like Motrin, then extend strong
I drank Moet with Medusa, give her shotguns in hell
From the spliff that I lift and inhale, it ain't hard to tell
The buddha monk's in your trunk, turn the bass up
Not stories by Aesop, place your loot up, parties I shoot up
Nas, I analyze, drop a jew-el, inhale from the L
School a fool well, you feel it like braille
It ain't hard to tell, I kick a skill like Shaquille holds a pill
Vocabulary spills I'm +Ill+
plus +Matic+, I freak beats slam it like Iron Shiek
Jam like a tech with correct techniques
So analyze me, surprise me, but can't magmatize me
Scannin while you're plannin ways to sabotage me
I leave em froze like her-on in your nose
Nas'll rock well, it ain't hard to tell
This rhythmatic explosion, is what your frame of mind has chosen
I'll leave your brain stimulated, niggaz is frozen
Speak with criminal slang, begin like a violin
End like Leviathan, it's deep well let me try again
Wisdom be leakin out my grapefruit troop
I dominate break loops, givin mics men-e-straul cycles
Street's disciple, I rock beats that's mega trifle
And groovy but smoother than moves by Villanova
You're still a soldier, I'm like Sly Stone in Cobra
Packin like a rasta in the weed spot
Vocals'll squeeze glocks, MC's eavesdrop
Though they need not to sneak
My poetry's deep, I never fell
Nas's raps should be locked in a cell
It ain't hard to tell
meth and red, "how high", red's verses only:
While the planets and the stars and the moons collapse,
When I raise my trigga finga all yall niggaz hit the decks,
Cause aint no need for that hustlers and hardcores,
Raw to the floor raw like Reservoir Dogs,
The Green Eyed Bandit can't stand it,
With more Fruitier Loops then that Toucan Sam Bitch,
Plus, the Bombazee got me wild,
(Fuckin with us) is a straight suicide
I bees the ultimate rush to any nigga on dust,
The Egyptian Musk use to have me pull mad sluts,
I shift like a clutch with the Ruck,
Examine my nuts I dont stop till I get enough,
Your shit broke down light your flare,
Since the darkside tears you into hollywood squares,
6 million ways to die so I chose,
Made it 6 million and 1 with your eyes closed,
The blindfold, cold so you can feel the rap,
And shatter the glass and second half on your monkey ass,
And yo my man (Tical) hit me now,
Bitches use to play me now they cant forget me now,
Forget me not I rock the spot check glock,
Empty off a lickin off a hip hop,
Fuck the billboard I'm a bullet on my block,
How you dope when you payed for your billboard spot
[Verse 6: Redman]
Look up in the I got the verbs nouns and glocks in ya
Enter the centa lyrics bang like rico-chet,
Rabbit, I brings havoc with an A-K matic,
Rollin blunts an all day habit,
I get it on like Smiff and Wess,
Who clicks the best,
Punks take a sip and test,
Who split your vest,
The funk phenomenon,
I'm bombin you like Lebanon,
Blow canals of Panama,
Just off stamina,
Styles not to be fucked with or played with,
Fuck the pretty hoes I love those Section A Bit-ches,
Hittin switches, Twistin wigs with,
Phat radical mathematical type scriptures,
I dig up in your planets like Digga,
Boo scared you blew you to smitha-reens,
Fuck the marines I got machines,
To light the spit and read Mad magazine,
I fly more heads than Continental,
Wreck ya 5 times like US AIR off an instrumental,
Look I'm not a half way crook with bad looks,
But I may murder your case like your name was Cal Brooks,
I breaks em up proppa,
Ask Biggie Smalls Who Shot Ya,
Funk doctor with the 12 Gauge Mossberg,
Look I got the tools like Rickle,
To make your mind tickle,
For the nine nickle,
(Yo Red, yo Red!)
Punk ass pussy ass
(You ain't gotta say no more man, thats it)
Word up Tical, We Out
(IT'S OVER)
Sick ass niggas
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