[Hook] (Grand Wizard) One time for your mind, one time (Nas) Yeah, whatever (GW) One time for your mind, one time (Nas) Yo, whatever (GW) One time for your mind, one time Hey yo, Nas? Kick that fuckin' rhyme
[Verse 1] Check it out When I'm chilling, I grab the buddha, get my crew to buy beers And watch a flick, illin' and root for the villain, huh Plus every morning, I go out and love it sort of chilly Then I send a shorty from my block to the store for Phillies After being blessed by the herb's essence I'm back to my rest, ten minutes, some odd seconds That's where I got the honey at, spends the night for sexing Keep lubrication, Lifestyle protection Htting up my stereo's remote control quickly Ron G's in the cassette deck, rocking the shit, G I try to stay mellow, rock, well acappella rhymes'll Make me richer than a slipper made Cinderella, fella Go get your crew, Hobbes, I'm prepared to bomb troops Y'all niggas was born, I shot my way out my mom dukes When I was ten I was a hip-hoppin' shorty wop Known for rocking microphones and twisting off a 40 top, yeah
[Hook]
[Verse 2] Right, right, what up niggas, how y'all? It's Nasty, the villain I'm still writing rhymes, but besides that I'm chillin' I'm trying to get this money, God, you know the hard times, kid Shit, cold be starving make you wanna do crimes kid But I'mma lamp, cause a crime couldn't beat a rhyme Niggas catching 3 to 9's, Muslims yelling "Free the mind" And I'm from Queensbridge, been to many places As a kid when I would say that out of town, niggas chased us But now I know the time, got a older mind Plus control a nine, fine, see now I represent mine I'm new on the rap scene, brothers never heard of me Yet I'm a menace, yo, police wanna murder me Heini Dark drinker, represent the thinker My pen rides the paper, it even has blinkers Think I'll dim the lights then inhale, it stimulates Floating like I'm on the North 95 Interstate Never plan to stop, when I write my hand is hot And expand a lot from the Wiz to Camelot The parlayer, I'll make ya heads bop, pa I shine a light on perpetrators like a cop's car From day to night, I play the mic and you'll thank God I wreck shit so much, the microphone'll need a paint job My brain is incarcerated Live at any jam, I couldn't count all the parks I raided I hold a Mac-11, and attack a reverend I contact 11 L's and max in heaven
[Hook]
[Outro] [Nas] Yo, from ninety-two to ninety-nine [LP] Yeah that shit was greasy fat Paul, kno what I’m sayin? But check it, you gotta another verse for me I want you to kick it, you know what I'msayin? Kick that shit for the projects