Nas - Street Glory Lyrics
[Intro: NAS]Uhh, still out in these mother*****in projectsStill a nigga ain't never gonna get the ***** up outta hereNiggaz just don't understand the story[Chorus: Pop]Niggaz die for the street gloryGo to trial get tried for each storyAnd each nigga got a storyAnd QB the streets call meSo if you see me slippin' reach for meI'm goin' after street gloryGo to trial get tried for each storyAnd each nigga got a storyAnd QB the streets call meSo if you see me slippin' reach for meI'm goin' after street glory[NAS]Yo, Every time I turn around niggaz shot, niggaz stabbedWhen tonight's pregnant girls strugling to get a cabFiends lurkin', D's searchin' pat pocketsKids put to bed duck they heads from gas poppin'Queensbridge slingin' hoppin' our benches Don status, throw feeds, got sirengesPoppin' out they arm scratchedNow remember parked (??) Cuz' else perfect ways, shell adidas Smellin' reefer way before purple hazePrivate stock peer nigga with ill walks like Mark ClareHas tilted wild niggaz lickin' shots in the airMe and Pop was there through the years our names have switchedAin't nothin' changed but the names Nastradamus and BlitzWhat project is this? QB burnin' in tint12th street murderous pimps, hot as hell's heatWhat could you tell me? Niggas seen it all in this gameWhen it's all said and done just remember our name[Pop]I'm familiar with the dead grass drama black gates and crimeEmbryo of the ghetto born face and timeNiggas shatter they dreams while I'm chasing mineGhetto fame got a fellow's name draped and shinedHow do I describe an atmosphere where streets are polluted?Where corruptors and new police being recruitedSomehow I make it through the day stayin' secludedWhile the blues aim leavin' another slain, executedMany thought's cause I see the past grimmly That could've been me, explodes out on 41st and 10th streetThrough all the pap grease and street chasesSudden raids and confrontations leadin the misdeamenor weed casesI blew smoke through hallway windowWatched the buddah clouds lingoPluckin the blunt brokes from my fingersMy eyes flip different shadesSimilar to people you meet everyday who be displayin' wicked waysSeein' nothing but another dayIn this six story rat trapThem gats clap another nigga's blazedEvents in my hood rotateLike the battle on the 38 snob in the world of fake loveBefore I blaze son, I'm kissing the slugsComing at you kisses and hugsWhen death calls who's really a thugThe street glory got me deeply in loveCan't shake it, can't take it, can't make itGot me needin' this drug[Chorus]
