Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Nas:
Yo, in a mahogany, black scenery
That was lightin and rain drops
I’m tied up in the basement cocaine spot, like Bangkok
I’m blindfold
Vietnam type mind control this torture
His accent sounds like the rarest culture
Askin me, my atrophy stabbin me gradually
Says his attribute, what’s satanic, masonic, ironic
I felt reminded of my fast life ventures
And winters
Blinded til the flashlight enters

AZ:
Yo dun, before the sun set
Call connect get all the tech’s
I’m vexed, this n—a stall for sex
He lost respect, lets off his neck
My caliber
Got me thinkin on a higher algebra
See me I’m just as foul as ya, but you ain’t got no style in ya
I’m into bigger cheddar
G’s and betta, armarettas
Armani sweaters, plus these crabs could never dead us


Chorus:
Mo money, more murder more homicide
You catch that body n—a, better have that alibi
You never know, it might just be your time to take that ride
To them pearly white gates, watch that suicide

Nas:
Now government official
Got you sippin on Cristal and crystal
You fish you foul so you fell and took your fam with you
I’m out to get you
Guaranteed every shell will hit you
Plus I’m on some s–t to
Layin down whomever’s with you
Mafioso
This New York City 90’s Era Sosa
AZ,
You know my culture
Now my wolves is out to ghost ya

AZ:
Center a rose on the graveyard for real now
The stakes is up a half a mil now
I tried to grab him with his shield down
What walked in a crazy paid up
Sharp but straight up
gators from Barbados
Never seen nobody play those
Laylow what they called him
His head bald and
Sippin cappuccino spilled to his silk suits
Lap was scalding
Laugh was vulgar
Canvas paintings of the Ayatollah
And on his arm he wore a priceless vulture
Tobacco pipe smoker
Escobar your life is over
Justify the righteous nova
Bullets flew out his right shoulder
Corpse leaving a foul odor
The firm volume one adjourned
Bring it to a closure

Chorus:

Nas:
So now you rolling with us like codefendants
No phony business
Should knwo the difference
From supreme solo its the style ancient as Moses scriptures
Its Latin kings, Black Kufi’s and white jesters
Among us
Crime invades the minds of youngsters
Where its pitch black they can’t see you
Godfather three falling for dead in a cathedral

AZ:
Now you forced to listen
I got the mind of a grad from Princeton
Play your position
Or soon you’ll be lost and missing
Its far from fiction
My presence is like that of a Christian
With ammunition puttin states under submission
Street addiction
Got me tied thorough with buroughs
Still in the ghetto
But in the cut where its mellow
Incognito on the leelow
Like Carlito
Cause we know
N—as don’t really want us to see dough
You never know it might just be your time to take your ride
To them pearly white gates watch that suicide

Chorus:

The manuscript Blue Lines is the fictional coming of age narrative of a young California woman Key Yemaya Walker, and her 2 year growing journey through school, love, and life period piece, written by Kenneth Suffern, Jr., taking place at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill between the years of 1997 – 1998. Loosely based on true events, and experiences during that time, told through the eyes and voice of the main female protagonist, a freshman first attending the school.