Print

It ain't hard to tell, I excel and prevailThe mic comes in contact with the third railMy raps react, they attack the wack just like a maniacWith this, see I'm a brainiacI call you tattoo, you never come offI flip the script with a sawed-off, bossA modern Shakespeare - reincarnatedBrains are elevated, I'm bein R ratedThis style is terror, drasticMeltin the plastic, and I eat mics just like acidBurn your pen and pads, mics you'll need notCause I be packin like a Rasta in a weed spotHittin your heart with a hollow-tip verbally illinMinds minipulated, my raps are nickel-platedI execute raps like I'm swingin an axe aroundThis is a mic shut downNotify the President - that I'm bombin your residenceAnd I'm leavin no evidenceVoice box yells, lyrics will excelRappers gettin smoked, you can smell the hot shellsYour style is fake snake, well dramatizedYou might as well be a singer but ain't harmonize/harmin-NasHere's the break, I can translate lyrics so wellI excel, it ain't hard to tellIt ain't hard to tell...Letras de cancionesI got a case of vocal fever, I'm here to make you a believerNas wrecks the tweeters and recieversLyrics will explode, my brain overloadsGimme a Grammy competition is dead just like SammyI leave minds magnetized like slavesYour style is old fashion like wavesHoldin a pistol at a pastor, pullin the trigger fasterTell 'em I was sent by his MasterBut that topic's too deep for your earHere's the science you can comprehend clearAdvanced intellectual, a time bomb speederI'll pull your whole card - just like a palm readerNon-stop, I'm bustin heads like the FEDS baby popsThis is not the 'Kindergarten Cop'Put on your blindfold, I'm a release and stand tallI detonate bombs at the policeman's ballThis is art from the heart, I leave 'em marked for deathIn each breath in this game I'm the refAlready I'm I'll but I can only get betterWith lyrics as pretty as a nickel-plated BerettaI master dialects, of uncommon languagesA black man caught by the Klan couldn't hang with thisThese are proverbs, copy cat attackersI'm wanted dead cause I'm a genocide to rappersBattlin Nas is dead when my brain reactsYou might as well have fell asleep on a train trackThis ain't the same track that you're used toThis is rhythmatic automatic, try it you oughta have itSlaughter your tape recorder; givin thanks to my supportersAnd keep flowin like waterNo matter the obstacle, Nasty Nas will prevailAiyyo, it ain't hard to tellIt ain't hard to tell...Check itI catch wreck with my intellect, suckers are incorrectI'm gonna win cause you sleptOn Nas, word is bond, I leave the microphone tornFalse rappers, you need to write your own songMetaphors of murder man, hittin like Roberto DuranHold the mic in my hand, my life spanImitators will sweat me like gym classYour raps are fat? Shit, then I'll be Slim FastNew rap recruits I salute then delete 'emVerbally eat 'em, because my ears don't need 'emNas is a terrorist, analystSwingin my fists like a nigga breakin, posessed by SatanYou couldn't compete with a beat that was fast or slowBrothers is gettin shipped out like I was CastroI can eat your flavor but I'm not a candy loverI use a 'Lethal Weapon', just like Danny GloverExecute monologues, sabotage entourageMutilate mics like a maniac in barsI talk with slang, and use my brainGenerate pain, penetrate your veinMove like a maniac, Nas is nice sonTalk to your concience and hit like TysonNo competition, cause I cause wondersNas will battle rappers by the football numbersA motor mouth killer, rhyme writin thrillerHold a mac-11, and attack a reverandDon't sleep cause you might not wakeI speak deep, dialects I translateQueens Prince, commit sins on the regularMurder my competitors, and et ceteraNas is a gypsy EgyptianFlippin' the script'n microphone manufacturers are victimsMy voice makes your ear drums swell...It ain't hard to tell. From Letras Mania