Aight fuck that shit  word word
 Fuck that other shit  youknowhatI'msayin?
 We gon' do a little somethin like this  yaknahmsayin?
 (Is they up on this?)
 Keep it on and on and on and on and..
 KnowhatI'msayin? Big Nas  Grand Wizard  God what it is?
 (What it is like?) Hah  knowhatI'msayin?
 Yo go 'head  do that shit nigga

 [Nas]
 I rap for listeners  blunt heads  fly ladies and prisoners
 Henessey holders and old school niggaz, then I be dissin a
 unofficial that smoke woolie thai
 I dropped out of Kooley High, gassed up by a cokehead cutie pie
 Jungle survivor, fuck who's the liver
 My man put the battery in my back, a differencem from Energizer
 Sentence begins indented.. with formality
 My duration's infinite, moneywise or physiology
 Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop
 I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop, straight off the block
 I reminisce on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat
 Childhood lesson make me see him drop in my weed smoke
 It's real, grew up in trife life, did times or white lines
 The hype vice, murderous nighttimes, and knife fights invite crimes
 Chill on the block with Cog-nac, hold strap
 with my peeps that's into drug money, market into rap
 No sign of the beast in the blue Chrysler, I guess that means peace
 For niggaz no sheisty vice to just snipe ya
 Start off the dice-rollin mats for craps to cee-lo
 With sidebets, I roll a deuce, nothin below (Peace God!)
 Peace God -- now the shit is explained
 I'm takin niggaz on a trip straight through memory lane
 It's like that y'all .. it's like that y'all .. it's like that y'all

 Chorus: repeat scratches 4X

 "Now let me take a trip down memory lane" -> BizMarkie
 "Comin outta Queensbridge"

 [Nas]
 One for the money
 Two for pussy and foreign cars
 Three for Alize niggaz deceased or behind bars
 I rap divine Gods check the prognosis, is it real or showbiz?
 My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses
 Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for real
 A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja
 Here's my basis, my razor embraces, many faces
 Your telephone blowin, black stitches or fat shoelaces
 Peoples are petrol, dramatic automatic fo'-fo' I let blow
 and back down po-po when I'm vexed so
 my pen taps the paper then my brain's blank
 I see dark streets, hustlin brothers who keep the same rank
 Pumpin for somethin, some uprise, plus some fail
 Judges hangin niggaz, uncorrect bails, for direct sales
 My intellect prevails from a hangin cross with nails
 I reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's real
 Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats
 I decifer prophecies through a mic and say peace.
 I hung around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats
 They spoke of Fat Cat, that nigga's name made bell rings, black
 Some fiends scream, about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing
 Uptown was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin, yo
 Fuck 'rap is real', watch the herbs stand still
 Never talkin to snakes cause the words of man kill
 True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my veins
 I pour my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane

 Chorus

 "Comin outta Queensbridge" -> scratched

 The most dangerous MC is..
 "Comin outta Queensbridge" -> scratched

 The most dangerous MC is..
 "Comin outta Queensbridge" -> scratched

 The most dangerous MC is..
 "Comin outta Queensbridge" -> scratched

 The most dangerous MC is..
 Me numba won, and you know where me from