Nas - 1994 Freestyle Hip Hop God / Genius Lyrics
[Grand Wizard:]Yo Nas[Bobbito:]Yo the... the mic is open YoFor the Stretch Armstrong Shooow hosted by Bobbitoooooo[Nas:]Yo how should I start this?How should I beginTo sinGrab the microphone and my rhyme to winWheel of FortuneSpin aroundCheck it out I'm not a rap clownGet smacked downBy the *****ing 4-poundIn your domeHit you with the nick-plate chromeQueensbridge that's my mother*****ing homeOff the top of the head yo I'm marked bluntheadPolice... Police they want a nigga deadBut I'm not going out like thatBlack I kick the actual factsIt's solar, cold as a polar bearI swear words through... WillBut I'm a chillRhymes to killNiggas know the styleWhen I freak the profileAziactic child YoGrand Wiz you on the side of meGet on the mic and bless the M.I.C.[Grand Wiz:]Ayo It's the Wiz KidYou know what I'm sayinAyo... But yo I'm a pass it off to my man 6-9Kick it one time[6-9:]Ayo 6-9 the true to life niggaYo my style is illerIller than Horrors Berry figure yoNiggas don't ***** with the 6-NinerShorty watch your mouthI smack you back in your vaginaHere some reefa to crack sunrise tequilaKilled the margarita, heres a fifty get some more chibaThe Ghetto TrooperSo spark up the blue buddhaMy thoughts stay nasty like an underground sewerTo be the man you got to beat the manIt ain't nothing stompin over here unbuckle up my timbalandsYou want staticLet's have itNiggas who flow like the AtlanticWill sink like the TitanicSince birth I was thinking too fastMy first peoples beat the doctor when he smacked me on my assThe Trigga-manI'm crazy like SamMy skill so I'll, like a white...[Nasty Nas:]Check it out nowOne for the moneyTwo for ***** and foreign carsThree for Alize niggaz deceased or behind barsI rap divine Gods check the prognosis, is it real or showbiz?My window faces shootouts, drug overdosesLive amongst no roses, only the drama, for realA nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganjaHere's my basis, my razor embraces, many facesYour telephone blowin, black stitches or fat shoelacesPeoples are petrol, dramatic automatic fo'-fo' I let blowAnd back down po-po when I'm vexed soMy pen taps the paper then my brain's blankI see dark streets, hustlin brothers who keep the same rankPumpin for somethin, some uprise, plus some failJudges hangin niggaz, uncorrect bails, for direct salesMy intellect prevails from a hangin cross with nailsI reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's realWord to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beatsBut chill bless the microphone and say peaceThose who there, kick the microphone in your handKick the flim-fam[Grand Wiz:]One Two[Nasty Nas:]Grab the microphoneAnd I'm a rock it up right for my man JungleDwelling in the jungleWhere must we goWhere must we wonderDeep out the skiesComes the M.C. NasNot to surprise, but to civilizeAll the dumb manWonderin around the streetsListening to a nigga rapping on fly beatsI just kick the mad Philly styleGet buckwildCause you know my styleI could run a wordKick it to a herbMake him turn into a rich manIncrease the planThe master planYo I'm buggin outCause the weed got me going, plus the Gin is stoutGrand Wizard Yo you my physicalWhy don't you grab the microphone and make the song miserable[Grand Wiz:]It's the G- the G- the G- the G- the WizI know that I go jus go get bizRunnin out with my man Nasty on the side of meMy man 6-9, you know we not hiding GI am the man that break it downBreak it on down, cause I'm from the town... I got...Queensbridge, in back of meThe tec and everything I'm coming strapped G.It's like that...Check it out uh, huh[Nas:]Check it out ya'llMoney, and Murder, Money and MurderThe sick shit you heard coming from money, *****ing...My swerve, the words are poetic...I sound energetic, when I'm blunted or "Moet-ed"My microphone's upsettedCause I sound crazzzyNow, you know never lazzzyYo, I'm gonna get all the cash I canEven if I gotta shoot a policemanWalk in the church and snatch your *****ing...Na I can't be flipping like thatCause you niggas try to jock the style...But I left that shit, to get new shit, to flow like the NileNow you can't catch up G...Cause I got the new styles on the M.I.C.I keep getting Newer...Can't step to A...Nigga from the BridgeSo you keep that shit and Immaflip the script Next Ye-arAnd my real name is Nas-ir...Can't spell it, cause I say it too Cle-arThe alphabet is not enough letters to useCause when it comes to mics, I bruiseI just go, with the magical mystic flowNiggas don't know that's word to my man BoI get Illmatic with the style that's insaneComing out a *****ing murderous brainGrand Wizard, "Please take this mic from me"...Before I bug out and wind up D.A.E.D.I mean D.E.A.D.I'm buggin out...
