Chain gleaming Switching lanes Two-seating Hate him or love him For the same reason [Fresh] Can't leave it The games needs him Plus the people need someone to believe in [Yes] So in God's Son we trust 'Cause they know I'm gonna give 'em what they want They looking for . . . a hero I guess that makes me . . . a hero
Another chapter of the cleanest rapper Distinguished gentlemen Crooks and castle on his back Maybach-er, exotic lady eye-catcher Holla at'cha, call me the chiropractor Working like Muay Thai class Get perspire out ya And of course I've been the boss since back when Rocking D Boy, Fila, velour in 190 black Benz Now they shut down the stores when I'm shopping Used to be train robbing, face covered in stocking I'm him
Chain gleaming Switching lanes Two-seating Hate him or love him For the same reason Can't leave it The games needs him Plus the people need someone to believe in So in God's Son we trust 'Cause they know I'm gonna give 'em what they want They looking for . . . a hero I guess that makes me . . . a hero
Rubber-grip-holder, reloader Come at me I'ma rip your soliders in half Silverback ape, nickle-plated mag Young, rich, and flashy Young, b!tch, I'm nasty All black clothes til ice lay on me so classy And every time I close my lids I can still see the borough, I can still see the Bridge I can still see the dreams that my niqqas ain't never lived to see Tell them angels open the door for me From nine berettas and moving raw To chilling in wine cellars Sticks and humidors That's what I call mature That's what I call a g That's what I call a pimp That's what I call a gangsta To the fullest, sh!t I try to make more cream By every September 14th, that's my dream So I can be more clean, as I grow yearly I can see things more clearly That's why they fear me
Chain gleaming Switching lanes Two-seating Hate him or love him For the same reason Can't leave it The games needs him Plus the people need someone to believe in So in God's Son we trust 'Cause they know I'm gonna give 'em what they want They looking for . . . a hero I guess that makes me . . . a hero
This universal apartheid I'm hog-tied, the corporate side Blocking y'all from going to stores and buying it First L.A. and Doug Morris was riding wit it But Newsweek article startled big wigs They said, Nas, why is he trying it? My lawyers only see the Billboard charts as winning Forgetting - Nas the only true rebel since the beginning Still in musical prison, in jail for the flow Try telling Bob Dylan, Bruce, or Billy Joel They can't sing what's in their soul So untitled it is I never change nothin' But people remember this If Nas can't say it, think about these talented kids With new ideas being told what they can and can't spit I can't sit and watch it So, sh!t, I'ma drop it Like it or not You ain't gotta cop it I'm a hustler in the studio Cups of Don Julio No matter what the CD called I'm unbeatable, y'all Lets go!