people be projects or jail never Harvard or Yale Pardon me type in my 2way while I'm chargin' my cell It's hard to be iced up with Gucci god poverty's
it My mom's in chemo Three times a week, yo keep trying but people Is hard and God your young soldier's not so bold But needs you This world's my home
Strength's gone at the tenth one so why hook up The pimp's gone off the Platron Tequila Put on my Lee's and the original Fila's Sedated from L's, 380
Prince from Queens and Fritz from Harlem Street legends, the drugs kept the hood from starvin Pushin cars, Nicky Barnes was the 70's But there's a long
Nas] Be, B-Boys and girls, listen up You can be anything in the world, in God we trust An architect, doctor, maybe an actress But nothing comes easy it takes much practice Like, I met a woman who's
, Jesus Christ He's just nice, he just slice like a ginnsu Look at the life that I been through I'm the last real nigga alive, that's official [Nas]
*shotgun blast* *old school break beat, thugs chant "Bravehearts!" 7X* [Verse 1: Nas] Uh, uh, uh, now let's get it all in perspective For all y'all
by the book A Mastermind - Never do a thing irrational, lives forever, these tales are classical [Nas] It ain't a game it's the life Think it's a game
glasses he was too stunt Studied for her Masters part time nurse I'll tell you how superb the ass is but who's looking I mean that's my man maybe I just
lets go, yeah! [Nas] Uh, ghetto children singing "singing" [Nas] See they eager to learn "uh hum" [Nas] how to become the next world leaders "Bravehearts"! Chorus:[Nas
happy that the streets is back in New York For you rappers, I carry the cross [Nas] Y'all can keep y'all weak beats, from your corny producers There's
The G-O-D Aiyyo, check it out...It's God's Son I know I always give you clowns a little lean to come out Cause I drop every two years...but it's over
it bloody, he was shootin Drivin they cars, robbin connects Drivin his Lex, keys was movin Young don, now they know they weakness They never seen it comin Son
to Thugz Mansion [Chorus: J. Phoenix] Every corner, every city There's a place where life's a little busy Little Hennessy, laid back and cool Every hour, cause it's
buried my queen in a gold casket Your mother's the closest thing to God that you ever have kid I'm askin, what would you do at your own mom's funeral
promoted by God's Son G-O-D S-O-N I S-O-O-T-H-E a female's estrogen With my testosterone, male hormone Enough for a giant's body, science S-C-I-E-N-
mic, that's all I need, that's all I need All I need is one mic, there's nuttin else in the world All I need is one mic, that's all a ***** need to do
cashmere fabrics never caught in last years garments holsters under armpits chauffers and the charms lit and the coders holding on the dons wrist she got the ill will chain on turqouise boots sayin god son