Nas

No Idea's Original
No idea's original, there's nothing new under the sun It's never what you do, but how it's done What you base your happiness around? Material, women, and large paper That means you inferior, not major No idea's original, there's nothing new under the sun It's never what you do, but how it's done What you base your happiness around? Material, women, and large paper That means you inferior, not major If niggas could look inside my mind, you'll find Where bodies are buried, first look past the hotties who dimes Go to the center, enter with caution, past the brain cell graveyard Where weed's responsible for memory loss Let's witness, the horrific, the stench'll make you nauseous See what I seen every day I live with this torture Lightin' spliffs up to stay high like 24 hours Sleep with my heat, wash with my gun in the shower My tongue is power, it thrills women, kills demons Long as I'm still breathin' I'm still winnin', I'll teach 'em The hood converted from trey bags to 20's a girl Everybody had money, every summer was real ill Four-finger rings, dope dealers, 'caine/Kane "No Half Steppin'" with flat tops when Rakim reigned Radios on card tables, Benetton, the Gods buildin' Ask for today's mathematics, we Allah's children Letras de cancionesAnd this was goin' on in every New York ghetto Kids listened, Five Percenters said it's pork in Jell-o We coincide, we in the same life, maybe a time difference On a different coast, but we share the same sunlight You're part of the world, might be like colors and gangs While on my side, brothers'll murder for different things But it all revolve around drugs, fame and shorties Stuck for your bling, stripped for your chain, the same story From, Czechoslovakia to Texas metropolis Them treacherous rastas in the Mexican mafias Be scrapping with tats on they back, violent wars Nothing less than a lethal injection if ever caught Courtrooms, eagles and flags, American style While in our world, the ghetto stays incredibly foul Watching for paint chips, don't want no lead in yo' child But them gangstas put lead in yo' child, the bezzy be out The chain be like a hundred K Shining since Roxanne Shante' made "Runaway"; that's been a minute Genesis is deep, my features are that of a God It's not a facade it's a fact, these rappers wanna be Nas My Exodus doesn't exist, I'll never leave the streets, it's all in my mind Even with sleep I'm duckin nines in my dreams Si-rens, wide awake, why'd I think it would change Can't hide when you famous or even try to do the same things Like, somebody's always watching My life before I, walk out the door I size up every option Eyes cut every direction, it's like God or guns Which is better protection? Can't decide, that's a hard one I mean they wanna see me in prison, the chains bamboozled Headline reading "Rapper Slain From a Man Shootin'" From Letras Mania