Lyrics: Nas. Hip Hop Is Dead. Black Republican.

(feat. Jay-Z)

[Jay-Z: talking]
I know you can feel the magic baby
Turn the muthafuckin' lights down
Esco watup?

[Nas: talking]
What up homie

[Jay-Z: talking]
I mean
This is what you expected ain't it?
Let's Go
Uh Uh [repeated]
Turn the music up in the headphones
Yah, that's perfect

You gotta take your time by making a nigga wait on this muthafucka
Niggaz is mad and shit like
Niggaz usually start rapping after 4 bars goin in
I could start dancin on this muthafucka
Yah

[Nas: talking]
Yah

[Jay-Z:]
I feel like a black republican,money i got comin in
Can't turn my back on the hood, i got love for em
Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in em
Prolly in the back of the hood, like fuck it then

Hovering over the oven, we were like brothers then
Though you were nothing another then the son of ma momma's friend
We had governin', who would have thought the love would end
Like ice cold albums, all good things
Grab a dope, sing the same song that all hoods sing
It was all would bring, all could could bring
We would bicker like the other fools,but talk good game
Never imagine all of the diaster that one could bring
Good friend you should blame the game, I could
Its kill or be killed, my good I reframe
Forever be in debt that's never a good thing
The pressure of success can put a good strain
But a friend you call best, but yes it could bring
Out of the worst in every person, even the good saint
Though we were cursed, the shit ain't tha same
When you cook cane at the age of sixteen
Then you mix things like cars, jewelries, and this thing
Jealously, ego and pride and this brings
All into the head, like a coin, chang ching
The route of all evil strike again, this could sting
Now the team got beat between the post and the point
This puts the ring in jeopardy

I feel like a black republican,money i got comin in
Can't turn my back on the hood, i got love for em
Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in em
Prolly in the back of the hood, like fuck it then

[Nas:]
I feel like black militant, taking over the government
Can't turn my back on the hood, too much love em
Can't clean up my act up for good, too much thug in em
Prolly in the back of the hood, like fuck it then

I'm back in the hood, everyone's like "Hey Nas"
Blowin on purple, reflecting on they lives
Couple of fat cats, couple of A I's
Dreamin' on fly shit, instead of the great skies
They bring 5's, hate Nas, wishin i bring guys
[?], the niggaz sing "why?"
Guess they ain't strong enough to handle their jailtime
Weak minds keep tryin', follow the street signs
Standing on the roof of my building,
I'm feeling the whirlwind of beef I inhale in,
just like an acrobat, ready to hurl myself through the hoops of fire
Sippin on [?], bulletproof undermere
Could be the forces of darkness are against hood angels of good, that forms street politics
Makes a sweet honest kid turn to legal for commerce, to get his feet out of them Converse

I feel like a black republican,money i got comin in
Can't turn my back on the hood, i got love for em
Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in em
Prolly in the back of the hood, like fuck it then

I feel like black militant, taking over the government
Can't turn my back on the hood, too much love em
Can't clean up my act up for good, too much thug in em
Prolly in the back of the hood, like fuck it then