1. |
Speechless
03:06
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INTRO
I don’t even know what’s goin’ on no more
I don’t even know what’s happenin’ man
Ain’t no answers
I’m’a figure some shit out tho Hit
Yunno
Yeah, yeah
Just try to get my weight up
Try to get all my watches in order
Get my safe up
Get great
VERSE 1
I’m 21 years past the 27 club
It’s like I went back into may past and then I sped it up
Robert Johnson, Winehouse, and Morrison found where heaven was
Heaven on Earth, this shit is magic with no fairy dust
Home of the gully, gangsta, the gruesome, and the scary stuff
I told my brother Jung fuck em they gon’ go thru hell with us
They don’t have the history in the streets that compare with us
Hood niggas they wanna be us, thugs in the St. Regis
Only thing undefeated is time
Second is the internet
Number three is this rhyme
Before security my dog had to sneak in the nine
God must be on my side
I had to eat and provide
My winning streak is divine
I told thun leave the street shit behind
Don’t let ‘em hype you a slow run beats cheatin’ the grind
Dog I’m tellin’ it like it is
You gotta deal with the consequence
When you run in a nigga’s crib nigga you better be ready to sit
HOOK
Dope dealers, street hustlers, pop cases
Throw dice, on pavement, cop chases
Big gamblers, scullies, hide faces
Gang wars, hot spots, police raid it
Left ‘em speechless
Left ‘em speechless
VERSE 2
Pick a down on his luck rapper
Bet he broker the arrogance of a crackhead
Mad at a weed smoker, or a pill taker
Who hate a distilled wine drinker
A killer who use a gun to hate on a knife swinger
Aiight I get it
It’s who the lit-est we in competition
Yall did it firstin’ to death I got a proposition
You and your brothers stop plottin’ on eachother, plot on millions
Educate yourself, find ten different areas of interest
Spread your bets out, double down on what’s working
Then you double up
Hands on your paper, they sending hate no matter what you touch
Honestly I’m speechless
Fly to Greece 20-pointers on the chain I freaked it
Lawn chair in the hood, sittin’ comfortably
I must be insane givin’ you bars runnin’ companies
I’m done with the redundancies
Checking on my Hstry, making content for Viacom
License music to Tiffany’s
I come from
HOOK
Dope dealers, street hustlers, pop cases
Throw dice, on pavement, cop chases
Big gamblers, scullies, hide faces
Gang wars, hot spots, police raid it
Left ‘em speechless (Just like when the judge read the sentence threw your life away in minutes)
Left ‘em speechless (The bounce back is the greatest feeling when they thought that you was finished)
Leave ‘em speechless
Speechless
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2. |
Meet Joe Black
02:51
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VERSE 1
Why would I ever have to cop a chain again
When the QB chain birthed most the chains in the game
No post office we stampin’ time
Took out a slice out of the Big Apple made apple pies
Family size
Leather bombers and Nike Sacais
Dangerous corners you better pray that tomorrow arrives
Rap Sugar Ray Robinson nothin’ sweet
Yall too out of shape to even box with me
Heavyweight I know my way around the ring
Just like shorty know her way around the store
Makin’ hits with Hit-Boy all he gotta do is hit record
Record breakin’ news had to show up just to fill the void
Confused spoiler lil boys yall better keep your poise
Leave me out of the weasel shit
Be cool when you see me I’m hot at all that rap diva shit
The hood know you pussy so we don’t buy or believe in it
Locked in on the instrumental I took back the key to this
Uh
HOOK 1
Run me the keys, run me the B’s, run me that flow back
Your top 3, I’m not number 1, how could you post that?
I wear the crown, the city is mine, you cannot hold that
I’m not the one to go at, you fuck around Meet Joe Black
Run me the keys, run me the B’s, run me that flow back (What I’m sayin)
Your top 3, I’m not number 1, how could you post that? (Uh)
I wear the crown, the city is mine, you cannot hold that (Yeah)
I’m not the one to go at, you fuck around Meet Joe Black
VERSE 2
What I’m sayin’ people sayin’ what’s already been said
Predictions I don’t listen it’s already in my head
No funny shit
You’re most hungry place, I was past that at 28
Underground tapes, ask my ASCAP and publishing states
As we slide in the G-ride
I been gettin’ criticized, it’s keepin’ me energized
Create with a business mind
I’m from where killers reside
A wild hood, only knew goons since my childhood
Niggas say anything in they raps ‘cause it sound good
Don’t even mean what they say, horrible outlook
Yall ain’t really ‘bout this, house nigs
Yall was in the house with it
We don’t respect fake jewelry and silly outfits
Window down, blowing out kush
Grey tints, New York’s J Prince on Houston Street
I caught the bounce before my nigga even bounced the beat
I took the hard way in this shit man it’s the route for me
Uh
HOOK 1
Run me the keys, run me the B’s, run me that flow back
Your top 3, I’m not number 1, how could you post that?
I wear the crown, the city is mine, you cannot hold that
I’m not the one to go at, you fuck around Meet Joe Black
Run me the keys, run me the B’s, run me that flow back
Your top 3, I’m not number 1, how could you post that?
I wear the crown, the city is mine, you cannot hold that
I’m not the one to go at, you fuck around Meet Joe Black
VAMP
Why would I ever have to cop a chain again
When the QB chain birthed most the chains in the game
Why would I
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3. |
Ugly
03:18
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INTRO
Test, test
Yes, yes
Yeah
VERSE 1
It’s ugly outside, it’s muggy, it’s money outside
105 Fahrenheit thunderous skies
The clouds shape a clown face above where you reside
Under his eye, a teardrop got the ugliest cry
They call my city Gotham City, opposite of pretty
Weatherman cannot predict bullets rainin’ from out the 50
It’s ugly outside, Big L would be here if it wasn’t
Hell will freeze over the day it doesn’t get ugly out
How can we hug it out
After we slugged it out
We should be buyin’ acres adjustin’ each other’s crowns
That was your brother back then, how could you gun him down
Yeah, Yeah
That’s what I live for
The inventor
The re-invention, I’m reincarnated, see what it hit for
Yo, even your mentor can get you sent for
Get you chipped off if it’s a brick off, you hit a brick wall
Damn big dog
Dove in that water and got hit with a cannonball
Ugly Christmas sweater party with no Santa Claus
Companies profit off of black trauma
That’s ugly, mad ugly just like Sheneneh and Wanda
You been thru shit I been thru shit everyday is an honor
It’s ugly how Mercedes Moore lost her life to a stalker
I’m on offense everyday ‘til I see the love
KD3 on the way, this just to feed the buzz
BREAK
It’s ugly
It’s ugly
Shit is ugly
Yeah, one more time
VERSE 2
Yeah, it’s ugly outside
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder
I see the envy getting closer thru my optics
Knew I had vision before I seen the optometrist
I seen a whole lot of shit, never altered my confidence
Or my consciousness
It’s ugly outside they dangerous, stay out the mix
Poppin’ back out on niggas homie I’m poppin’ shit
Kill ‘em with no accomplices watchin’ my rearview the envy is obvious
It’s ugly outside, it’s grown men jealous outside
It’s grown ass women that’ll have you set up to die
You really not a stepper nigga, just step to the side
While I two-step on a beat, watch a veteran slide
JMJ seen ‘em comin’ wish he ain’t hit the buzzer
Marvin Gaye to Young Dolph we takin’ out our brothers
Distorted faces, solemn features, we kill each other
It’s Mr. Ugly Man Marlon Wayans in In Living Color
BREAK
It’s ugly
It’s ugly
Shit is ugly
Yeah, one more time
It’s ugly
It’s ugly
Shit is ugly
Yeah
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4. |
40-16 Building
02:55
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5. |
Hollywood Gangsta
03:15
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6. |
Wu For The Children
03:18
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7. |
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INTRO
Yeah
We’re more solid
Yeah
HOOK - Nas
No comparison we more solid than they are
Me and Hit-Boy they say we like the new Gang Starr
Me and Flacko they say we the new Wave Gods
Shout to Max B he could be home any day God
VERSE - A$AP Rocky
Wake up out the bed scruffy, sparkin’ my J
Shine my nickel plated then I’m startin’ my day
My old lady called me baby told her pardon my age
12 shells in the gauge like a carton of eggs
We goin’ home like Eric Cartman, chromosomes on my conscience
Hear some niggas talkin’ nonsense, call up Nasty Nastradamus
Rock the pearls and diamonds, break your promise break her wallets
Break her heart and break her pockets, taking notes like guidance counselors
Aristocrat like the Chancellor, the answer to the, uh, panhandlers
The corners with the mans’ is up, the jig is up, the scams is up
Yeah they hands is up, lookin’ in the crowd, yeah
Tryin’ to fuck the world but my pants still up
Tryin’ to invest in all my G’s before we rest in peace
‘Cause we sure to rest in peace
The rest is set the record set, as soon as I release
The rumors be I roam the streets with no security
They know a nigga overseas, uhhh
Kinda swag that’s passed from your mom and dad
Prada bags and we cheesin’ on them Calvin ads
Mighta peeped the billboards fifty feet when out in traffic
Staring at a nigga’ picture shit you bound to crash
HOOK - Nas
No comparison we more solid than they are
Me and Hit-Boy they say we like the new Gang Starr
Me and Flacko they say we the new Wave Gods
Shout to Max B he could be home any day God
A$AP Mob got Mass Appeal
Call up Nasty Nas, niggas hit the lick like ah ah ah
VERSE - Nas
Wake up out the bed, wrap my durag up
Say a prayer, I’m thankin’ god that Mom dukes had us
Monotone style like Guru on some Preemo cuts
Crewneck by McQueen go nuts
Jewels over my white hoodie like Juvie in ‘9-8
It’s movies that I make
Peruvian white flake
It tore the community at a high rate
Adversity I faced
I roll my own gas to make sure that it’s not laced
Damn I used to hit the block hopin’ they see me
Watchin’ Video Music Box sittin’ close to the TV
I was inspired by Whodini and Kool G
Got my first pair of J’s thought I was 2-3 (Air)
Invest in all my G’s before we rest in peace
‘Cause we sure to rest in peace
My shorty is a piece, a piece of mind, a dimepiece
I might buy her a piece of property
You might’a had some joints but ain’t nuttin’ like me and Rocky seen
HOOK - Nas
No comparison we more solid than they are
Me and Hit-Boy they say we like the new Gang Starr
Me and Flacko they say we the new Wave Gods
Shout to Max B he could be home any day God
A$AP Mob got Mass Appeal
Tell Hit we got a hit ayyy ayyy
Tell Hit we got a hit ah
Call up Nasty Nas niggas hit the lick like ah ah ah
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8. |
The Truth
03:27
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INTRO
Can’t bury you with your money
Can’t bury you with your bitch
Born alone, die alone
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, burn the whole place down
VERSE 1
No more foul plays
Housin’ mentality, shoot ‘em down days
Goin’ out of town with a couple of pound plays
Always the one you call your friend but then his style changed
Hard time for non-violent crimes, that’s a outrage
We need a meetin’
Money and fame is fleetin’
You never really know the reason why two people is beefin’
Bloody murder
In the 80’s he had suede Louis seats in the ‘burban
Did dirty, his sentence start turnin’
Look at life, took advice from the streets of Vernon
Nothin Nice, John Boy Ice, his death undetermined
Pick an island anywhere for your happy solar returning
When I’m gone I pray my family don’t get the cash and burn it to the floor
Black 4’s laced up
Galactica glaciers, eighty-eight carats, immaculate paystubs
Them niggas do a crime, I drop a rhyme, it’s the same rush
And they been sending shots a nigga way but they ain’t struck
Can’t fuck with me
I been outside, since a buck fifty was the only way to get your face done
Doggystyle CD turn that “Murder Was The Case” up
Thinkin’ when I drop my first shit I’m leavin’ they face scrunched
Black from the dark side of Vernon, draws from the dime block
They had it clickin’ but today it’s some new slimes out
Instagram trickin’ the hood
What they cryin’ ‘bout
Petty crimes, bitches and money, that’s what they lyin’ ‘bout
HOOK
Niggas ain’t tellin’ the truth enough (no, uh-uh no)
Yall don’t look like the truth to us (Hype off that lil’ dirt you did, that ain’t shit to the kid, whoa)
Niggas ain’t tellin’ the truth enough (no, no nigga)
Yall don’t look like the truth to us (Hype off that lil’ dirt you did, that ain’t shit to the kid, whoa)
VERSE 2
Now you got your marching orders
This shit will make your mouth water
Like food grilled with wood chips
Woolrich, button up flannel
Lookin’ wolfish my hair wolfin’
Central bookings, simple lessons
One foot on the curb, one foot in the Lexus
My style is eclectic
Eat you pussies for breakfast
Then I offer refreshments
Look all that fly shit yall harpin’ on
They’ll take the watch from your arm
And cops do nothin’ about it that’s what’s goin’ on
Many changes, more racists
When I was tourin’ the nation with warrants on probation
I was a small kid amazed with the thought one day I’ll be bankin’, IV from drinkin
Poppy to Abu Dhabi
Prolly polly with Saudis
Crank the engine on a ‘74 Chevy Chevelle
Shorty friend is a snake
I told her her bestie ain’t real
You gotta watch that
As the lobster crack, I spray the Baccarat
Your reputation, you can’t clean that shit up at no laundromat, sucka
See somebody has to say it, the boys still ain’t graduated
I must say they cap the greatest (be real)
My team is mature, the bags are secured
Surrounded by addicts addicted to having more
HOOK
Niggas ain’t tellin’ the truth enough (no, uh-uh no)
Yall don’t look like the truth to us (Hype off that lil’ dirt you did, that ain’t shit to the kid, whoa)
Niggas ain’t tellin’ the truth enough (no, no nigga)
Yall don’t look like the truth to us (Hype off that lil’ dirt you did, that ain’t shit to the kid, whoa)
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9. |
Dedicated
03:52
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VERSE 1
Yeah
When Carlito was dying
He see the shadow of his girl dancing with the baby
Like fuck it it’s my time
But if God save me
Maybe I’ll erase any vice that could potentially bring harm to me
Before I make a move I think about it karmically
Everything come back like a boomerang
I’m black as Paul Mooney slang
And all I pray for is health and a sustainable business and a faithful missus
I see a lotta people try to be who they ain’t
We don’t want money that fit in the bag, we want the bank
Just to spread it around, like icing on the cake
White tiger out the cage, Mike Tyson in ‘88
Dedicated like jack boys on Melrose
Smash and grab, yo this world became a hellhole
“Stay cool” is what I tell those, (word) youngins
So they don’t end up in jail clothes, c’mon
HOOK
I dedicated my life, my life
Dedicated my life, my life
I dedicated my, my, uh (yo that is inspiration)
Dedicated my
VERSE 2
Whole damn life
If I wanted to now I could live an old man life
Confronted with how the hood can use more funding
More budgets for more teachers
Financial literacy, more speeches
Chefs come cook for me
Look what it took for me
The streets had its hooks in me
Yeah
People ask me what books to read
Destruction of black civilization, that’s history
Journal of Chris Columbus, that is what interests me
Juneteenth holiday finally came and it pisses me
Off, for the fact that we came in chains
You’ll be physically in pain
Dedicated like Ricky Walters, Dougie and Dana Dane
HOOK
I dedicated my life my life
I dedicated my life my life
I dedicated my, uh
Dedicated my
I dedicated my life my life
I dedicated my life my life
I dedicated my
VERSE 3
Test, test, yeah, yunno
To get to this point
I might have to write a script, a manuscript
Yo, yo, ghetto manners is you thuggin’ me or asking?
Finessin’ me or pressin’ me, when none of that is happenin’
Accessory to murder not necessarily Manson
I’m just a G in constructs, a Pelle Pel, or a Vanson
Ratty clothes we haven’t spoke in years, pat his coat
Check his waistline, he spyin’ on who has the most
Best to leave me alone, I get in my zone
Laughin’ with African presidents while over the phone
Shit be feeling like the last days, cash made
Mirrors on the ceiling with a bad babe
Same age with niggas be having mad grays
Million Man March for real niggas never last place
Blazin’ gats like young Haitian Jack
Me and money go together like the 80’s and crack
Shorty aura like Kimora rockin’ Baby Phat
I’m droppin’ bars nigga like I’m on stage with smack
To my niggas who have staples from the navel up
Healed up, had to chill a while, lay in the cut
Shorty tried to wop me down in the Mercedes truck
Pulled up, cobblestone ground in my palatial hut
Paradis for niggas still doing deals in the street
Original Backwoods I fill ‘em with green
Am I a musician? Or am I a magician?
No tricks, just real shit, straight out the kitchen
Pure magic
No tricks, no tricks
No tricks
No tricks, pure magic
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Nas Queens, New York
Since his Illmatic debut in 1994, hip hop heavyweight Nas has long been considered one of the most influential and talented MCs to ever hold a mic. The Queens, NY native has dodged the unpredictable and ephemeral nature of the rap industry, consistently releasing critically acclaimed projects that become more than just hip hop records, but defining moments in music history. ... more
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