Nas - Black Folks lyrics

Nas

Nas [Nasir bin Olu Dara Jones] Brooklyn, NYC, U.S. 🇺🇸

[Nas - Black Folks lyrics]

What, whatyeah

I ain't seen as much death
Nor seen as much crime
Since the blackout in Queensbridge in '79
Everybody's a killer now pimps, playas
And dons
Shorties on the block push drops and carry on
Niggas look through our window
Wherever we drove through the tint
To see if the Benz is matching the clothes
We the Queens kings
I used to view the cats that are old
Seeing things that made me real from
My skin to my soul girls who turned hoes
Friends who turned foes
Bad luck niggas who bring
Death wherever they go
Never sleep, it feels better to know
It's all real though



Everything is real where we Headed now?
Up to more money, would be more fun
Leave with mo' bitches, carry more guns
Where we headed now? Where we going, yo?
It's getting real, son we gon' let it flow
Where we Mo' bitches, it be more dough
It be more fun, holding more

How the hell are we supposed
To excel from the street
Where the Jake's crew face young
Kids who wanna eat?
Quantum Leap to this Black world
Hustlers and ghettos
Self made millionaires who tussle
With the devil
Bust a lil metal lead, wrestle you
To the pebbles
On the hard ground, that's if your guard down
It's a struggle, brothers jump bail
To come chill with they niggas on the block
With them rocks for sale
On the horn with the god Shapelle
My Queens comrade
Yo, run and come in with the dime bag

Ayo, I need dat, I got to smoke dat
Send me some Chunky Black
So I could smoke away the pain
Try to find my brain
But the thought still remain
Yo, it's on again once the
Death stunts these chains
'Cause I been through it the drug game
I thought I knew it
I got knocked, took it to trial
But I blew it
25, but only lived 20 years of my life
Took 5 from me got me wrapped up like a mummy
Now I'm in the system aka the devil's home
Where they tell you where
To eat, sleep, shit, and use the phone
Now I'm living with, drug dealers
And chain stealers
Bitch niggas who got knocked
And turned squealers
Imagine, sharing a cell with
A rehabilitated addict
Who love fucking with faggots
But I civilized the savage
I sat him down and made him study mathematics
Now I'm sitting in the cell thinking
About this reefer I'ma get this weekend
On the VI, I rather be uh, damn, damn

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