(Check that %#@!)
Aight $#&@ that %#@!, word word
$#&@ that other %#@!, youknowhatI'msayin?

We gon' do a little somethin like this, yaknahmsayin?
(Is they up on this?)
Keep it on and on and on and on and..

KnowhatI'msayin? Big Nas, Grand Wizard, God what it is?
(What it is like?) Hah, knowhatI'msayin?
Yo go 'head, do that %#@! ^!$$%


[Nas]
I rap for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and prisoners

Henessey holders and old school ^!$$%z, then I be dissin a
unofficial that smoke woolie thai
I dropped out of Kooley High, gassed up by a !@%!ehead cutie pie

Jungle survivor, $#&@ who's the liver
My man put the battery in my back, a differencem from Energizer
Sentence begins indented.. with formality

My duration's infinite, moneywise or physiology
Poetry, that's a part of me, !@$!edly bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop, straight off the block

I reminisce on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat
Childhood lesson make me see him drop in my weed smoke
It's real, grew up in trife life, did times or white lines

The hype vice, murderous nighttimes, and knife fights invite crimes
Chill on the block with Cog-nac, hold strap
with my peeps that's into drug money, market into rap

No sign of the beast in the blue Chrysler, I guess that means peace
For ^!$$%z no sheisty vice to just snipe ya
Start off the dice-rollin mats for craps to cee-lo

With sidebets, I roll a deuce, nothin below (Peace God!)
Peace God -- now the %#@! is explained
I'm takin ^!$$%z on a trip straight through memory lane

It's like that y'all .. it's like that y'all .. it's like that y'all

[Chorus: repeat scratches 4X]


"Now let me take a trip down memory lane" -> [BizMarkie]
"Comin outta Queensbridge"


[Nas]
One for the money

Two for #~!!@ and foreign cars
Three for Alize ^!$$%z deceased or behind bars
I rap divine Gods check the prognosis, is it real or showbiz?

My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses
Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for real
A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja

Here's my basis, my razor embraces, many faces
Your telephone blowin, black stitches or fat shoelaces
Peoples are petrol, dramatic automatic fo'-fo' I let blow

and back down po-po when I'm vexed so
my pen taps the paper then my brain's blank
I see dark streets, hustlin brothers who keep the same rank

Pumpin for somethin, some uprise, plus some fail
Judges hangin ^!$$%z, uncorrect bails, for direct sales
My intellect prevails from a hangin cross with nails

I reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's real
Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats
I decifer prophecies through a mic and say peace.

I hung around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats
They spoke of Fat Cat, that ^!$$%'s name made bell rings, black
Some fiends scream, about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing

Uptown was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin, yo
$#&@ 'rap is real', watch the herbs stand still
Never talkin to snakes cause the words of man kill

True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my veins
I pour my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane


[Chorus]

"Comin outta Queensbridge" -> [scratched]


The most dangerous MC is..
"Comin outta Queensbridge" -> [scratched]


The most dangerous MC is..
"Comin outta Queensbridge" -> [scratched]

The most dangerous MC is..

"Comin outta Queensbridge" -> [scratched]

The most dangerous MC is..
Me numba won, and you know where me from