Nas, JAY-Z - Black Republican lyrics

I know you can feel the magic, baby
Turn the motherfuckin' lights down
Esco, whattup? (Whattup, homie?)
I mean, it's what you expected, ain't it?
(Ha ha ha)
Let's go uhh, uh, uhh, uh, uhh, uh
Turn the music up in the headphones
Uh, yeah, that's perfect (yeah, right, right)
Uhh, uh, you gotta take ya time
Make a nigga wait on this muh'fucka (hahaha)
Make niggas mad and shit like
Niggas usually just start rappin'
After four bars, nigga, go in!
Just start dancin' in this muh'fucka
Yeah (yeah) we just come outta nowhere

I feel like a Black Republican
Money I got comin' in
Can't turn my back on the hood
I got love for them
Can't clean my act up for good


Too much thug in him (nah)
Probably end up back in the hood, like
"Fuck it then"

Huddlin' over the oven
We was like brothers then (what?)
Though you was nothin' other than a
Son of my mother's friend we had covenant
Who would've thought the love would end?
Like Ice Cold's album (uhh) , all good things
Never thought we sing the same
Song that all hoods sang
Thought it was all wood-grain, all good brain
We wouldn't bicker like the other fools
Talk good game
Never imagine all the disaster
That one good reign, could bring
Should blame, the game, and I could
It's kill or be killed, how could I refrain?
And forever be in debt
And that's never a good thing
So the pressure for success can
Put a good strain on a friend you call best
And yes it could bring
Out the worst in every person
Even the good and sane
Although we rehearsed it
It just ain't the same
When you put in the game at age sixteen
Then you mix things: like cars, jewelry
And Miss Thing
Jealousy, ego, and pride, and this brings
It all to a head like a coin, cha ching
The root of evil strikes again
This could sting
Now the team got beef between
The Post and the Point
This puts the ring in jeopardy – indefinitely

I feel like a black republican
Money I got comin' in
Can't turn my back on the hood
I got love for them (uhh, uhh)
Can't clean my act up for good
Too much thug in him (nah)
Probably end up back in the hood, I'm like
"Fuck it then" i feel like a black militant
Takin' over the government
Can't turn my back on the hood
Too much love for them (nah)
Can't clean my act up for good
Too much thug in him
Probably end up back in the hood, I'm like
"Fuck it then"

I'm back in the hood, they like, "Hey Nas"
(uh)
Blowin' on purp, reflectin' on they lives
(uh) couple of fat cats, couple of AI's
Dreamin' of fly shit instead
Of them gray skies
Gray 5s, hatah's wishin' our reign dies
Pitch, sling pies, and niggas they sing
"Why"? (uhh)
Guess they ain't strong enough to
Handle their jail time
Weak minds keep tryin'
Follow the street signs
I'm standing on the roof of my building
I'm feelin' the whirlwind of beef
I inhale it
Just like an acrobat ready to hurl myself
Through the hoops of fire
Sippin' 80 proof, bulletproof under my attire
Could it be the forces of darkness
Against hood angels of good
That form street politics?
Makes a sweet honest kid
Turn illegal for commerce (uhh)
To get his feet out of them
Converse – that's my word

I feel like a black republican
Money keep comin' in
Can't turn my back on the hood
I got love for them (uhh, uhh)
Can't clean my act up for good
Too much thug in him (nah)
Probably end up back in the hood, ah
"Fuck it then" i feel like a black militant
Takin' over the government
Can't turn my back on the hood
Too much love for them
Can't clean my act up for good
Too much thug in him
Probably end up back in the hood, I'm like
"Fuck it then"