The Message - Nas

Fake thug, no love, you get the slug, CB4 Gusto

Your luck low, I didn’t know 'til I was drunk though

You freak niggas played out, get fucked and ate out

Prostitute turned bitch, I got the gauge out

96 ways I made out, Montana way

The Good F-E-L-L-A, verbal AK spray

Dipped attache, jump out the Range, empty out the ashtray

A glass of 'Zé make a man Cassius Clay

Red dot plots, murder schemes

32 shotguns, regulate with my dunns

17 rocks gleam from one ring

They let me let y’all niggas know one thing

There’s one life, one love, so there can only be one King

The highlights of livin', Vegas-style, roll dice in linen

Antera spinnin' on millenniums

20 G bets I’m winnin' 'em, threats I’m sendin' 'em

Lex with TV sets the minimum, ill sex adrenaline

Party with villains, a case of Demi-Sec

To chase the Henny, wet any clique with the semi TEC

Who want it?

Diamonds I flaunt it

Chickenheads flock I lace 'em, fried broiled with basil taste 'em

Crack the legs way out of formation

It’s horizontal how I have 'em fuckin' me in the Benz wagon

Can it be Vanity from Last Dragon?

Grab your gun, it’s on though

Shit is grimy, real niggas buck in broad daylight

With the broke MAC that won’t spray right

Don’t give a fuck who they hit as long as the drama’s lit

Yo, overnight thugs bug ‘cause they ain’t promised shit

Hungry-ass hooligans stay on that piranha shit

I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death

I ain’t the type of brother made for you to start testin'

I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death

I ain’t the type of brother made for you to start testin'

I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death

I ain’t the type of brother made for you to start testin'

I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death

I ain’t the type of brother made for you to start testin'

I peeped you frontin'

I was in the Jeep sunk in the seat, tinted with heat, beats bumpin'

Across the street you was wildin'

Talkin' about how you ran the Island in '89

Layin' up, playin' the yard with crazy shine

I cocked the baby 9, that nigga grave be mine

Clanked him—what was he thinkin'?

On my corner when it’s pay-me time

Dug 'em, you owe me, cousin

Somethin' told me «Plug him!»

So dumb, felt my leg burn, then it got numb

Spun around and shot one

Heard shots and dropped, son, caught a hot one

Somebody take this biscuit 'fore the cops come

Then they came askin' me my name

What the fuck?

I got stitched up, it went through

Left the hospital that same night, what

Got my gat back, time to backtrack

I had the drop so how the fuck I get clapped?

Black was in the Jeep watchin'

All he seen speed by was a brown Datsun

And yo, nobody in my hood got one

That clown nigga’s through, blazin' at his crew daily

The Bridge touched me up severely, hear me?

So when I rhyme it’s sincerely yours

Be lightin' Ls, sippin' Coors on all floors in project halls

Contemplatin' war niggas I was cool with before

We used to score together uptown coppin' the raw

But, uh—a thug changes and love changes

And best friends become strangers (Word up)

Y’a-Y'all know my steelo

Ther-Ther-Ther-Ther-Ther-There ain’t an army that could strike back

Y’a-Y'all know my steelo

Ther-Ther-Ther-Ther-There ain’t an army that could strike back

Y’a-Y'all know my steelo

Ther-Ther-Ther-There ain’t an army that could strike back

Y’a-Y'all know my steelo

There ain’t an army that could strike back

Thug niggas, yo, to them thug niggas

Gettin' it on in the world, you know?

To them niggas that’s locked down

Doin' they thing, survivin', ya know’m sayin'?

To my thorough niggas, New York and worldwide

Yo, to the Queensbridge Militia

9−6 shit, The Firm clique

Illmatic, nigga, It Was Written though

It’s been a long time comin'

Y’all fake niggas, tryin' to copy

Better come with the real though, fake-ass niggas, yo

(They throw us slugs, we throwin' them back, what)

Bring the shit, man!

Live, man!

(Fuck that son, word up) 9−6 shit