Check me out y'all
Nasty nas in your area
About to cause mass hysteia

Before a blunt I take out my fronts
Then I start to front
Matter a fact I be on a manhunt
You couldn't catch me on the streets
without a ton of Reefer
That's the Malcolm X catchin a jungle fever
King poetic too much flavor I major
Atlanta ain't braver I pull a number like a pager
'Cause I'm am ace when I face the bass
Forty side is the place that is givin' me grace
Now wait another dose and you might be dead
'Cause I'm a Nike head I wear chains
that excite the Feds
Ain't a damn thing gonna change
I'm a performer strain
So the mic warmer was born to game
Nas why did you do it?
You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme
It's halftime!!

It's like that you know it's like that
I got it hemmed now you never get the mic back
When I attack there ain't a army
that could strike back
So I react never calmly on a hype track
I set it off with my own rhyme
'Cause I'm as ill as a convict who kitts for phone time
I max like a sax flex like sex
In your stereo sets Nas will catch wreck
I used to hustle now all I do is relax and strive
When I was young I was fan of the Jackson Five
I drop jewels wear jewels hope to never run it
With more kicks than a baby in a mother's stomach

Nasty Nas has the rise 'cause I'm wise
This is exercise till the microphone dies
Back in '83 I was an MC sparkin
But I was too scared to grab the mics in the parks
And kick my little raps 'cause
I thought niggas wouldn't understand
And now at every jam I'm the fuckin' man
I rap in front of more niggas than in the slave ships
I used to watch "CHIPS" now I load glock clips
I got to have it I miss Mister magic
Versatile my style switches like a faggot
But not bi sexual I'm intellectual
At rap I'm a professional and that's no question yo
These are the tyrics
of the man you can't near understand
'Cause in the streets
I'm well known like the number man
AmI in place with the bass and format
Explode rap and tell me Nas ain't all that
And next time I rhyme I'll be foul
Whenever I freestyle I see trial niggas say I'm wild
I hate a rhyme biter's rhyme
Stay tuned I assume the real rap comes at half time

I got it goin' on even flip a morning song
Every afternoon I kick half the tune
And in the darkness I'm heartless
Like when the Narc said word to Marcus Garvey
I hardly sparked it
'Cause when I blast the herb that's my word
I be slayin' em fast
Doin this that and the third
But Chill past the Andre' and ket's lay
I bag bitches up at John Jay and hit a matinee
Puttin hits on five oh cause what it's my turn to go
I wait for god with the four pour
And biters can't come near
And go to hell the foul cop who shot Garcia
I won't plant seeds don't need
an extra mouth I can't feed
That's extra Philly change
More cash for damp weed
This goes out to Manhattan the island of Staten
Brooklyn and Queens is Irvin' fat and
The boogie down propd enough clout
I'll rest in peace. yo I'm out


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