[Verse 1] Straight up shit is real and any day could be your last in the jungle Get murdered on a humble, guns'll blast, niggas tumble The corners is the hot spot, full of mad criminals Who don't care, guzzling beers, we all stare At the out-of-towners, they better break North Before we get the four pounders and take their face off The streets is filled with undercovers, homicide chasing brothers The D's on the roof tryna watch us and knock us And killer coppers, even come through in helicopters I drink a little vodka, spark a L and hold a Glock For the fronters, wannabe ill niggas and spot runners Thinking it can't happen 'til I trap 'em and clap 'em And leave 'em done, won't even run about Gods I don't believe in none of that shit, your facts are backwards Nas is a rebel of the street corner Pulling a Tec out the dresser, police got me under pressure
[Hook]
[Verse 2] Yo, they call me Nas, I'm not your legal type of fella Moet drinking, marijuana smoking street dweller Who's always on the corner, rolling up blessed When I dress, it's never nothing less than Guess Cold be walking with a bop and my hat turned back Love committing sins and my friends sell crack This nigga raps with a razor, keep it under my tongue The school drop-out, never liked the shit from day one Cause life ain't shit but stress, fake niggas, and crab stunts So I guzzle my Hennesey while pulling on mad blunts The brutalizer, crew de-sizer, accelerator The type of nigga who be pissing in your elevator Somehow the rap game reminds me of the crack game Used to sport Bally's and Cazals with black frames Now I'm into fat chains, sex and Tecs Fly new chicks and new kicks, Heine's and Beck's
[Hook]
[Verse 3] No doubt, see my stacks are fat, this is what it's about Before the BDP conflict with MC Shan Around the time when Shante dissed the Real Roxxane I used to wake up every morning, see my crew on the block Every day's a different plan that had us running from cops If it wasn't hanging out in front of cocaine spots We was at the candy factory, breaking the locks Nowadays, I need the green in a flash just like the next man Fuck a yard God, let me see a hundred grand Could use a gun son, but fuck being the wanted man But if I hit rock bottom then I'mma be the Son of Sam Then call the crew to get live too with Swoop, Bokeem My brother Jungle, Big Bo, cooks up the blow Mike'll chop it, Mayo, you count the profit My shit is on the streets, this way the Jakes'll never stop it It's your brain on drugs, to all fly bitches and thugs 'Nuff respect to the projects, I'm ghost, one love
[Hook]
[Outro] One time for your mothafuckin' mind This goes out to everybody in New York That's living the real fucking life and every projects, all over To my man, Big Will he's still here The 40 side of Vernon, my man Big L.E.S Big Cee-Lo from the Don, Shawn Penn, the 40 busters My crew the shorty busters, the 41st side of Vernon posse The Goodfellas, my man Cormega, Lakey the Kid Can't forget Drawers, the Hillbillies My man Slate, Wallethead, Black Jay, Big Oogi Crazy barrio spot, (Big Dove), we rock shit, Ph.D And my man Primo, from Gang Starr '94 real shit y'all, (Harry O), fuck y'all crab-ass niggas though