Illmatic
Album - 19 aprile 1994 - Debaser id 21157

*sound of a subway train going overhead*

[Hector:] And you're sitting at home doing this shit? I should be earning a
medal for this. Stop fucking around and be a man, there ain't nothing out
here for you...

*in the background, Nas' verse from Main Source 'Live at the BBQ' is heard*

(Street's disciple, my raps are trifle
I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle
Stampede the stage, I leave the microphone split
Play Mr. Tuffy while I'm on some Pretty Tone shit
Verbal assassin, my architect pleases
When I was twelve, I went to...)

[ZORO:]
Oh yes there is...this!

[Somebody from the Firm] Yo Nas
Yo what the fuck is this bullshit on the radio Son?
[Nas] Chill chill, that's the shit God, chill
[AZ the Visualiza] Aiyyo yo, pull down the shade, man.
Let's count this money, nigga
Aiyyo Nas, put the Jacksons and the Grants over there
You know what I'm sayin?
Cause we spendin the Jacksons
[Nas] Right, yeah.
[AZ] You know how we get down baby
[Nas] True, true
[The Firm] Nas, yo Nas, man shit is mad real right now in the Projects
for a nigga yo, word to mother. All them crab ass rappers
be comin up to me man word to mother man I think we need
to let them niggaz know it's real man.
[Nas] True indeed, knahmsayin, but when it's real you doin this
even without a record contract, knahmsayin?
[AZ] No question
[Nas] Been doin this since back then
[The Firm] No doubt
[AZ] I'm saying regardless how it go down we gon keep it real
We trying to see many mansions and...and Coupes kid!
[Nas] No doubt, we gon keep it real
True, true...
[The Firm] Aiyyo where's Grand Wizard and Mayo at man?
Takin niggas a long time, man...
[Nas] Who got the Phillies? Take this Hennessey
[AZ] Aiyyo Dunn! C'mon, c'mon, man stop waving that man
Stop pointing that at me Dunn, take the clip out
[Nas] Nigga alright but take this Hennessey man
[AZ] I'm saying take the clip man
C'mon, take it out...
[Nas] Light them Phillies up man
Niggaz stop fucking burning Phillies man
Light some Phillies up then!
[The Firm] Pass that Amber Boch, pass that Amber Boch, nigga! Act like you know.
[AZ] Yo, we drinking this straight up with no chaser
I ain't fucking with you nigga
[Nas] I'm saying though man...
[AZ] What is it, what is it baby?
[The Firm] What is it Son, what is it?
[AZ] You know what time it is
[Nas] I'm saying man, ya know what I'm saying?
Niggaz don't listen man, representing
It's Illmatic.

Intro: Nas

Yeah yeah, aiyyo black it's time (word?)
(Word, it's time nigga?)
Yeah, it's time man (aight nigga, begin)
Yeah, straight out the fuckin dungeons of rap
Where fake niggaz don't make it back
I don't know how to start this shit, yo, now

[Verse One: Nas]

Rappers I monkey flip em with the funky rhythm I be kickin
Musician, inflictin composition
of pain I'm like Scarface sniffin cocaine
Holdin a M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, now
Bulletholes left in my peepholes
I'm suited up in street clothes
Hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes
Y'all know my steelo with or without the airplay
I keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairway
Or either on the corner bettin Grants with the celo champs
Laughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken amps
G-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk shit
Remeniscing about the last time the Task Force flipped
Niggaz be runnin through the block shootin
Time to start the revolution, catch a body head for Houston
Once they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass and
I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassin
Pick the Mac up, told brothers, the Mac spit
Lead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflip
Heard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn't look
Gave another squeeze heard it click yo, my shit is stuck
Try to cock it, it wouldn't shoot now I'm in danger
Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber
So now I'm jetting to the building lobby
and it was filled with children probably couldn't see as high as I be
(So whatchu sayin?) It's like the game ain't the same
Got younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they name
and claim some corners, crews without guns are goners
In broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on us
Fo'-fives and gauges, Macs in fact
Same niggaz'll catch a back to back, snatchin yo' cracks in black
There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked
So hold your stash until the coke price drop
I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock
And if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo
You gotta slide on a vacation
Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin
It drops deep as it does in my breath
I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined
I think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind

[Rakim:]
New York state of mind (*repeat 4X*)

[Verse Two: Nas]

Be havin dreams that I'ma gangster -- drinkin Moets, holdin Tecs
Makin sure the cash came correct then I stepped
Investments in stocks, sewing up the blocks
to sell rocks, winning gunfights with mega cops
But just a nigga, walking with his finger on the trigger
Make enough figures until my pockets get bigger
I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin
Give me a Smith and Wessun I'll have niggaz undressing
Thinkin of cash flow, buddah and shelter
Whenever frustrated I'ma hijack Delta
In the P.J.'s, my blend tape plays, bullets are strays
Young bitches is grazed each block is like a maze
full of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packed
From what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back, black
I'm livin where the nights is jet black
The fiends fight to get crack I just max, I dream I can sit back
and lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewn
Or the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, homes
I got so many rhymes I don't think I'm too sane
Life is parallel to Hell but I must maintain
and be prosperous, though we live dangerous
cops could just arrest me, blamin us, we're held like hostages
It's only right that I was born to use mics
and the stuff that I write, is even tougher than dykes
I'm takin rappers to a new plateau, through rap slow
My rhymin is a vitamin, Hell without a capsule
The smooth criminal on beat breaks
Never put me in your box if your shit eats tapes
The city never sleeps, full of villians and creeps
That's where I learned to do my hustle had to scuffle with freaks
I'ma addict for sneakers, twenties of buddah and bitches with beepers
In the streets I can greet ya, about blunts I teach ya
Inhale deep like the words of my breath
I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
I lay puzzle as I backtrack to earlier times
Nothing's equivalent, to the new york state of mind

[Rakim:]
New York state of mind (*repeat 4X*)

Nasty Nas (*scratched 8X*)

[AZ]
Aiyyo, wassup wassup let's keep it real son
Count this money, yaknowhatI'msayin?
[Nas]
Yea yea
[AZ]
Aiyyo, put the Grant's over there in the safe yaknowhatI'msayin?
[Nas]
Yea yea
[AZ]
Cause we spendin these Jackson's
The Washington's go to wifey, you know how that go
[Nas]
I'm sayin, that's what this is all about right?
Clothes, bankrolls, and hoes yaknowhatI'msayin?
Yo then what man, what?? *echoes*

[Verse One - AZ]
Visualizin the realism of life in actuality
Fuck who's the baddest, a person's status depends on salary
And my mentality is money-orientated
I'm destined to live the dream for all my peeps who never made it
'Cause yeah, we were beginners in the hood as five percenters
But somethin must of got in us cause all of us turned to sinners
Now some restin' in peace and some are sittin' in San Quentin
Others such as myself are tryin' to carry on tradition
Keepin the schwepervesence street ghetto essence inside us
Cause it provides us with the proper insight to guide us
Even though, we know somehow we all gotta go
but as long as we leavin thievin', we'll be leavin with some kind of dough
so, and to that day we expire and turn to vapors
me and my capers'll be somewhere stackin plenty papers
Keepin it real, packin' steel, gettin' high
Cause life's a bitch and then you die

[Chorus - AZ]
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we get high
Cause you never know when you're gonna go
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we puff lye
Cause you never know when you're gonna go
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we get high
Cause you never know when you're gonna go
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we puff lye

[Verse Two - Nas]
I woke up early on my born day, I'm twenty years of blessing
The essence of adolescent leaves my body now I'm fresh in
My physical frame is celebrated cause I made it
One quarter through life some God-ly like thing created
Got rhymes 365 days annual plus some
Load up the mic and bust one, cuss while I puffs from
my skull cause it's pain in my brain vein money maintain
Don't go against the grain simple and plain
When I was young at this I used to do my thing hard
Droppin foreigners take they wallets they jewels and rip they green cards
Dipped to the projects flashin my quick cash
and got my first piece of ass smokin blunts with hash
Now it's all about cash in abundance, niggaz I used to run with
is rich or doin years in the hundreds
I switched my motto -- instead of sayin fuck tommorrow
That buck that bought a bottle could've struck the lotto
Once I stood on the block, loose cracks produce stacks
I cooked up and cut small pieces to get my loot back
Time is Illmatic keep static like wool fabric
Pack a four-matic that crack your whole cavity

[Chorus - AZ]
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we get high
Cause you never know when you're gonna go
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we puff lye
Cause you never know when you're gonna go
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we get high
Cause you never know when you're gonna go
Life's a bitch and then you die; that's why we puff lye
Cause you never know when you're gonna go
Life's a bitch and then you die

*Olu Dara plays trumpet until fade*

"It's yours!" --> T La Rock

Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock
[PR] Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?

I sip the Dom P, watchin Gandhi til I'm charged
Then writin in my book of rhymes, all the words pass the margin
To hold the mic I'm throbbin, mechanical movement
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
The fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck like a crack pipe
The mind activation, react like I'm facin time like
'Pappy' Mason with pens I'm embracin
Wipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phlegm on the streets
Suede Timb's on my feets, makes my cypher, complete
Whether crusin in a six-cab, or Montero Jeep
I can't call it, the beats make me fallin asleep
I keep fallin, but never fallin six feet deep
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Say what?)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Say what?)
I'm out for dead presidents to represent me

[PR] Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this? "It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?

To my man Ill Will, God bless your life "It's yours!"
To my peoples throughout Queens, God bless your life
I trip we box up crazy bitches aimin guns in all my baby pictures
Beef with housin police, release scriptures that's maybe Hitler's
Yet I'm the mild, money gettin style, rollin foul
The versatile, honey stickin wild, golden child
Dwellin in the Rotten Apple, you get tackled
Or caught by the devil's lasso, shit is a hassle
There's no days, for broke days, we sell it, smoke pays
While all the old folks pray, to Je-sus' soakin they sins in trays
of holy water, odds against Nas are slaughter
Thinkin a word best describin my life, to name my daughter
My strength, my son, the star, will be my resurrection
Born in correction all the wrong shit I did, he'll lead a right direction
How ya livin large, a broker charge, cards are mediocre
You flippin coke or playin spit spades in strip poker

"It's yours!"

Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock

[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this? "It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
[Nas] Yo, the world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this? "It's yours!"
[PR] Break it down

*Pete Rock cuts and scratches "It's yours!"*

I'm the young city bandit, hold myself down singlehanded
For murder raps, I kick my thoughts alone, get remanded
Born alone, die alone, no crew to keep my crown or throne
I'm deep by sound alone, caved inside in a thousand miles from home
I need a new nigga, for this black cloud to follow
Cause while it's over me it's too dark to see tomorrow
Trying to maintain, I flip, fill the clip to the tip
Picturin my peeps, now the end could make my heartbeat skip
and I'm amped up, they locked the champ up, even my brain's in handcuffs
Headed for Indiana stabbin women like the Phantom
The crew is lampin big Willie style
Check the chip toothed smile, plus I profile wild
Stash through the flock wools, burnin dollars to light my stove
Walk the blocks wit a bop, checkin Danes plus the games
people play, bust the problems of the world today

"It's yours!"

Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock

[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose world is this?
[Nas] The world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this? "It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this?
[Nas] Yeah... the world is yours, the world is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose world is this? "It's yours!"
Break it down

Yea aight?
To everybody in Queens, the foundation "It's yours!"
The world is yours
To everybody uptown, yo, the world is yours "It's yours!"
The world is yours
To everybody in Brooklyn
Y'all know the world is yours "It's yours!"
The world is yours
Everbody in Mount Vernon, the world is yours "It's yours!"
Long Island, the world is yours "It's yours!"
Staten Island, yea the world is yours "It's yours!"
South Bronx, the world is yours "It's yours!"
Aight

*Pete Rock keeps cuttin and scratchin "It's yours!" to fade*

}}

Right...

Check me out y'all, Nasty Nas in your area
About to cause mass hysteria

Before a blunt, I take out my fronts
Then I start to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
You couldn't catch me in the streets without a ton of reefer
That's like Malcom X catching the Jungle Fever
King poetic, too much flava, I'm major
Atlanta and braver, I pull a number like a pager
Cuz I'm am ace when I face the bass
40 side is the place that is giving me grace
Now wait, another dose and you might be dead
And I'm a Nike head, I wear chains that excite the feds
And ain't a damn thing gonna change
I'm a performer strange, so the mic warmer was born to gain
Nas, why did you do it
You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's halftime

Right...
It's halftime...

It's like that, you know it's like that
I got it hemmed, now you never get the mic back
When I attack, there ain't an army that could strike back
So I react never calmly on a hype track
I set it off wit my own rhyme
Cuz I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time
I'm max like cassettes, I flex like sex
In ya, stereo sets, Nas will catch wreck
I used to hustle, now all I do is relax and strive
When I was young, I was a fan of the Jackson 5
I drop jewels, wear jewels, hope to never run it
Wit more kicks than a baby in a mother's stomach
Nasty Nas has to rise, cause i'm wise
This is exercise til the microphone dies
Back in '83, I was an MC sparking
But I was too scared to grab the mic's in the park and
Kick my little raps cuz I thought niggaz wouldn't understand
And now in every jam I'm the fucking man
I rap in front of more niggaz than in the slave ships
I used to watch C.H.I.P.S, now I load glock clips
I got to have it, I miss Mr Magic
Versatile, my style switches like a faggot
But not a bisexual, I'm an intellectual
Of rap, I'm a professional and that's no question, yo
These are the lyrics of the man, you can't near it, understand
Cuz in the streets, I'm well known like the number man
Am I in place wit the bass and format?
Explore rap and tell me Nas ain't all that
And next time I rhyme, I be foul whenever I freestyle
I see trial niggaz say I'm wow
I hate a rhymebiter's rhyme
Stay tuned, Nas, soon the real rap comes at halftime

Right...
It's halftime

I got it going on, even flip 'em on this song
Every afternoon, I kick half the tune
And in the darkness, I'm heartless like when the narcs hit
Word to marcus Garvey or heartless Sparkton
Cuz when I blast the herb, that's my word
I be slaying them fast, doing this, that and the third
But chill, pass the Andre and let's lay
I bag bitches up at John Jay and hit a mantinee
Putting hits on 5-0
Cuz when it's my time to go, I wait for God wit the fo-fo [44]
And biters can't come near
And yo, go to hell to the foul cop who shot Garcia
I won't plant seeds, don't need an extra mouth I can't feed
That's extra Phillie change, more cash for damp weed
This goes out to Manhattan, the island of Staten
Brooklyn, Queens is living fat and
The Boogie Down, enuff props, enuff clout
Ill will, rest in peace, yo, I'm out

Right...
It's still halftime

Represent, represent!! (repeat 4X)
Straight up shit is real and any day could be your last in the jungle
Get murdered on the humble, guns'll blast, niggaz tumble
The corners is the hot spot, full of mad criminals
who don't care, guzzlin beers, we all stare
at the out-of-towners (Ay, yo, yo, who that?) They better break North
before we get the four pounders, and take their face off
The streets is filled with undercovers, homicide chasin brothers
The D.A.'s on the roof, tryin to, 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 niggaz and spot runners
Thinkin 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
Pullin a Tec out the dresser, police got me under pressure
Represent, represent!! (repeat 4X)
Yo, they call me Nas, I'm not your legal type of fella
Moet drinkin, marijuana smokin street dweller
who's always on the corner, rollin up blessed
When I dress, it's never nuttin less than Guess
Cold be walkin with a bop and my hat turned back
Love committin 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 niggaz and crab stunts
So I guzzle my Hennesey while pullin on mad blunts
The brutalizer, crew de-sizer, accelerator
The type of nigga who be pissin in your elevator
Somehow the rap game reminds me of the crack game
Used to sport Bally's and Gazelle's with black frames
Now I'm into fat chains, sex and Tecs
Fly new chicKs and new kicks, Heine's and Beck's
Represent, represent!! (repeat 3X)
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 mornin, see my crew on the block
Every day's a different plan that had us runnin from cops
If it wasn't hangin out in front of cocaine spots
We was at the candy factory, breakin 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 bein the wanted man
but if I hit rock bottom then I'ma be the Son of Sam
Then call the crew to get live too
with Swoop, Hakim, 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
Represent y'all, represent!! (repeat 4X)One time for your motherfuckin mind
This goes out to everybody in New Yorkthat's livin the real fuckin life
And every projects, all overTo my man, Big Will he's still here *echoes*
The 40 side of VernonMy man Big L.E.S.Big Cee-Lo from the Don
Shawn Penn, the 40 bustersMy crew the shorty busters
The 41st side of Vernon posseThe GoodfellasMy man Cormega, Lakid Kid
Can't forget Drawers, the HillbilliesMy man Slate, WalletheadBlack Jay, Big Oogi
Crazy barrio spot (Big Dove)We rock shit, Ph.DAnd my man Primo, from GangStarr
(Ninety-four real shit y'all, Harry O!)Fuck y'all crab ass niggaz though...
(Yeah, bitch ass niggas! *etc.*)

It ain't hard to tell, I excel, then prevail
The mic is contacted, I attract clientele
My mic check is life or death, breathin a sniper's death
I exhale the yellow smoke of buddha through righteous steps
Deep like The Shinin', sparkle like a diamond
Sneak a uzi on the island in my army jacket linin
Hit the Earth like a comet, invasion
Nas is like the Afrocentric Asian, half-man, half-amazin
Cause in my physical, I can express throuh song
Delete stress like Motrin, then extend strong
I drank Moet with Medusa, give her shotguns in hell
From the spliff that I lift and inhale, it ain't hard to tell
The buddha monk's in your trunk, turn the bass up
Nas, stories by Aesop, place your loot up, parties I shoot up
Nas, I analyze, drop a jew-el
Inhale from the L, school a fool well, you feel it like braille
It ain't hard to tell, I kick the skill like Shaquille holds a pill
Vocabulary spills I'm Illplus Matic, I freak beats slam it like Iron Shiek
Jam like a tech with correct techniques
So analyze me, surprise me, but can't magmatize me
Scannin while you're plannin ways to sabatoge me
I leave em froze like her-on in your noseNas'll rock well, it ain't hard to tell
This rhythmatic explosion, is what your frame of mind has chosen
I'll leave your brain stimulated, niggaz is frozen
Speak with criminal slang, begin like a violin
End like Leviathan, it's deep well let me try again
Wisdom be leakin out my grapefruit troop
I dominate break loops, givin mics men-e-straul cycles
Street's disciple, I rock beats that's mega trifle
And groovy but smoother than moves by Villanova
You're still a soldier, I'm like Sly Stallone in Cobra
Packin like a rasta in the weed spotVocals'll squeeze glocks, MC's eavesdropT
Though they need not to sneakMy poetry's deep, I never fell
Nas's raps should be locked in a cellIt ain't hard to tell