Nas - N.Y. State of Mind

Yeah, yeah

Ayo, Black it's time, word (Word, it's time, man)

It's time, man (Aight, man, begin)

Yeah straight out the fuckin' dungeons of rap

Where fake niggas don't make it back

I don't know how to start this shit, yo now;


Rappers; I monkey flip 'em with the funky rhythm

I be kickin', musician inflictin' composition

Of pain, I'm like Scarface sniffin' cocaine

Holdin' an M16, see, with the pen I'm extreme

Now, bullet holes left in my peepholes

I'm suited up with street clothes, hand me a 9 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 cee-lo champs

Laughin' at base-heads, tryna sell some broken amps

G-packs get off quick, forever niggas talk shit