Nas - Theifs Theme lyrics
Nas [Nasir bin Olu Dara Jones] Brooklyn, NYC, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Nas - Theifs Theme lyrics]
One, two check, one, two
One, two, who got more style, the son do
Rewind one, two
Check, one, two
One, two, who got more style, the son do
Check, one, two
Yo I'm hot like 95 Fahrenheit
On a summer night
Tight spot where bodies rot
Rats drink from water drops
In the streets niggas
Little kids scared cops, wit red dots
Philosophical gangsta, wit violent priors
Goin' back like black and
White TV's wit pliers
Leanin' on broke down cars, wit flat tires
Flash iron, anybody tryin' on
The blocks I'm supplyin' on
Madicon, my peeps, tie ballons up
And swallow 'em and the P now got goons
Lots of 'em
Cops see them and run, don't want no drama
Certain parts of the streets
The beast don't want a part of
Martyr, hood haunted like the Dakota
Where John Lennon was shot up
But he sang for peace he begged for freedom
Hanged wit wild Jamicians
From Kingston, who drink Irish Malts
Listenin to Peter Winston, Machintosh
Lightning hit's the top of the church steeple
When I'm writin', semi-automatic no hyphen
It's frightening scratches
The thief's theme, play me at night
They won't act right
Understandable smooth shit
That murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night
They won't act right
Understandable smooth shit
That murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night
They won't act right
Understandable smooth shit
That murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night
They won't act right
Understandable smooth shit
That murderers move wit
I take summers off, cause I love winter beef
Started '87, wit the shotty in the sheep
Three-quarter length beige, dressed to kill
Bust a shell at the ground
Pellets hit the crowd nobody like a snitch
Everybody shut they mouth
Woolrich, Carhartt, gun powder stains
Smellin' like trees, sensimille on the brain
Skeemin' on ya girls, bambooze or ya chain
Got ill up on the train, twistin' off a cap
Of a English in my vain
Might of pushed you on the tracks
Deaf crack fiends, who can't speak
Scream noises
Cause she bought a jum of soap
From one of my boys and, it's
Just another day in the hood
And I'm, wit some wild brothers
Up to no good
We saw the movies, like Tony Montana, and 'em
But our style was let them pile then
We robbin' 'em
Money dudes, make 'em come up out they shoes
Run they jewels, word is bond
Where my man Nino goin'
And I had to make a song
Speakin on my old life
For the thief's who come out at night
One, two check, one, two echoes
One, two check, one, two
One, two, who got more style
The son do echoes explosion
One, two, who got more style, the son do
Rewind one, two
Check, one, two
One, two, who got more style, the son do
Check, one, two
Yo I'm hot like 95 Fahrenheit
On a summer night
Tight spot where bodies rot
Rats drink from water drops
In the streets niggas
Little kids scared cops, wit red dots
Philosophical gangsta, wit violent priors
Goin' back like black and
White TV's wit pliers
Leanin' on broke down cars, wit flat tires
Flash iron, anybody tryin' on
The blocks I'm supplyin' on
Madicon, my peeps, tie ballons up
And swallow 'em and the P now got goons
Lots of 'em
Cops see them and run, don't want no drama
Certain parts of the streets
The beast don't want a part of
Martyr, hood haunted like the Dakota
Where John Lennon was shot up
But he sang for peace he begged for freedom
Hanged wit wild Jamicians
From Kingston, who drink Irish Malts
Listenin to Peter Winston, Machintosh
Lightning hit's the top of the church steeple
When I'm writin', semi-automatic no hyphen
It's frightening scratches
The thief's theme, play me at night
They won't act right
Understandable smooth shit
That murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night
They won't act right
Understandable smooth shit
That murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night
They won't act right
Understandable smooth shit
That murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night
They won't act right
Understandable smooth shit
That murderers move wit
I take summers off, cause I love winter beef
Started '87, wit the shotty in the sheep
Three-quarter length beige, dressed to kill
Bust a shell at the ground
Pellets hit the crowd nobody like a snitch
Everybody shut they mouth
Woolrich, Carhartt, gun powder stains
Smellin' like trees, sensimille on the brain
Skeemin' on ya girls, bambooze or ya chain
Got ill up on the train, twistin' off a cap
Of a English in my vain
Might of pushed you on the tracks
Deaf crack fiends, who can't speak
Scream noises
Cause she bought a jum of soap
From one of my boys and, it's
Just another day in the hood
And I'm, wit some wild brothers
Up to no good
We saw the movies, like Tony Montana, and 'em
But our style was let them pile then
We robbin' 'em
Money dudes, make 'em come up out they shoes
Run they jewels, word is bond
Where my man Nino goin'
And I had to make a song
Speakin on my old life
For the thief's who come out at night
One, two check, one, two echoes
One, two check, one, two
One, two, who got more style
The son do echoes explosion