Оригинален текст
[shotgun blast]
[old school break beat, thugs chant bravehearts! 7x]
[verse 1: nas]
Uh, uh, uh, now lets get it all in perspective
For all yall enjoyment, a song yall can step wit
Yall appointed me to bring rap justice
But I aint five-o, yall know its nas yo
Grey goose and a whole lotta hydro
Only describe us as soldier survivors
Stay laced in the best, well dressed with finesse
In a white tee lookin for wifie
Thug girl who fly and talks so nicely
Put her in the coupe so she can feel the nice breeze
We can drive thru the city no doubt, but dont say my cars topless
Say the titties is out, newness heres the anthem
Put your hand up that you shoot with, count your loot wit
Push the pool stick in your new crib, same hand that you hoop with
Swing around like you stu-pid, kinga the town, yeah I been that
You know I click-clack where you and yor mens at
Do the smurf, do the wop, baseball bat
Rooftop like we bringing 88 back
[chorus: nas]
They shootin! -- aw made you look
You a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Gettin big/big money, playboy your times up
Where them gangstas? where them dimes at?
They shootin! -- aw made you look
You a slave to a page in my rhyme book
Gettin big/big money, playboy your times up
Where them gangstas at? where them dimes at?
[verse 2: nas]
This aint rappin, this is street-hop
Now get up off your ass like your seats hot
My live niggaz lit up the reefer
Trunka the car we got the streetsweeper
Dont start none, wont be none
No reason for your mans to panic
You dont wanna see no ambulances
Knock a pimps drink down in his pimp cup
Thats the way you get timberlandd up
Let the music diffuse all the tension
Ball or convention, free admission
Hustlers, dealers and killersca move swift
Girls get close, youca feel where the tools kept
All my just-comin homies, parolees
Get money, leave the beef alone slowly
Get out my face, you people so phoney
Pull out my waist, the eagle fo-forty
[chorus]
[thugs chanting bravehearts! 4x over dj scratching gunshots]
[verse 3: nas]
I see niggaz runnin, yo my mood is real rude
I lay you out, show you what steel do
Mobsters dont box, my pump shot obliges
Every invitation to fight you punk hazas
Like pun said, you aint even en mi clasa
Maybach benz, back seat, tv plasma
Ladies lookin for athletes or rappers
Whatever you choose, whatever you do
Make sure he a thug and intelligent too
Like a real thoroughbred is, show me love
Lemme feel how the head is
Females whose the sexiest is always the nastiest
[record scratched off, nas rhymes acapella]
And I like a little sassiness, a lotta class
Mommy reach in your bag, pass the fifth
Im a leader, at last this a don you wit
My ninesll spit, niggaz loose consciousness