The Message

[Produced by Trackmasters]

[Verse 1]
Fake thug, no love, you get the slug, CB4 Gusto
Your luck low, I didn't know 'til I was drunk though
You freak niggas played out, get fucked and ate out
Prostitute turned bitch, I got the gauge out
96 ways I made out, Montana way
The Good F-E-L-L-A, verbal AK spray
Dipped attache, jump out the Range, empty out the ashtray
A glass of 'Zé make a man Cassius Clay
Red dot plots, murder schemes
32 shotguns, regulate with my dunns
17 rocks gleam from one ring
They let me let y'all niggas know one thing
There's one life, one love, so there can only be one King
The highlights of livin', Vegas-style, roll dice in linen
Antera spinnin' on millenniums
20 G bets I'm winnin' 'em, threats I'm sendin' 'em
Lex with TV sets the minimum, ill sex adrenaline
Party with villains, a case of Demi-Sec
To chase the Henny, wet any clique with the semi TEC
Who want it? Diamonds I flaunt it
Chickenheads flock I lace 'em, fried broiled with basil taste 'em
Crack the legs way out of formation
It's horizontal how I have 'em fuckin' me in the Benz wagon
Can it be Vanity from Last Dragon?
Grab your gun, it's on though
Shit is grimy, real niggas buck in broad daylight
With the broke MAC that won't spray right
Don't give a fuck who they hit as long as the drama's lit
Yo, overnight thugs bug ‘cause they ain't promised shit
Hungry-ass hooligans stay on that piranha shit

[Refrain]
I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'

[Verse 2]
I peeped you frontin'
I was in the Jeep sunk in the seat, tinted with heat, beats bumpin'
Across the street you was wildin'
Talkin' about how you ran the Island in '89
Layin' up, playin' the yard with crazy shine
I cocked the baby 9, that nigga grave be mine
Clanked him—what was he thinkin'?
On my corner when it's pay-me time
Dug 'em, you owe me, cousin
Somethin' told me "Plug him!"
So dumb, felt my leg burn, then it got numb
Spun around and shot one
Heard shots and dropped, son, caught a hot one
Somebody take this biscuit 'fore the cops come
Then they came askin' me my name
What the fuck? I got stitched up, it went through
Left the hospital that same night, what
Got my gat back, time to backtrack
I had the drop so how the fuck I get clapped?
Black was in the Jeep watchin'
All he seen speed by was a brown Datsun
And yo, nobody in my hood got one
That clown nigga's through, blazin' at his crew daily
The Bridge touched me up severely, hear me?
So when I rhyme it's sincerely yours
Be lightin' Ls, sippin' Coors on all floors in project halls
Contemplatin' war niggas I was cool with before
We used to score together uptown coppin' the raw
But, uh—a thug changes and love changes
And best friends become strangers (Word up)

[Refrain 2]
Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
Ther–Ther–Ther–Ther–Ther–There ain't an army that could strike back
Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
Ther–Ther–Ther–Ther–There ain't an army that could strike back
Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
Ther–Ther–Ther–There ain't an army that could strike back
Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
There ain't an army that could strike back

[Outro: Nas & (AZ)]
Thug niggas, yo, to them thug niggas
Gettin' it on in the world, you know?
To them niggas that's locked down
Doin' they thing, survivin', ya know'm sayin'?
To my thorough niggas, New York and worldwide
Yo, to the Queensbridge Militia
9-6 shit, The Firm clique
Illmatic, nigga, It Was Written though
It's been a long time comin'
Y'all fake niggas, tryin' to copy
Better come with the real though, fake-ass niggas, yo
(They throw us slugs, we throwin' them back, what)
Bring the shit, man! Live, man!
(Fuck that son, word up) 9-6 shit