Testo Black Republican - Nas feat. Jay-Z
Testo della canzone Black Republican (Nas feat. Jay-Z), tratta dall'album Hip Hop Is Dead
I know you can feel the magic baby
Turn the motherfuckin lights down
Esco whuttup? (Whuttup homey)
I mean. it's what you expected ain't it?
Let's go... uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
Turn the music up in the headphones
Uh, Yea, that's perfect (Yea, right)
Uh, we got to take our time and make a nigga wait on this motherfucker
(hahaha!) Make niggas mad and shit like
Niggas usually just start rappin' after 4-bars, nigga go in
Start dancin' in this motherfucker
Yea, (Yea) we just come outta nowhere
I feel like a Black Republican, money I got comin' in
Can't turn my back on the hood, I got love for them
Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in 'em
Probably end up back in the hood, I'm like "Fuck it then"
Huddlin' over the oven, we was like brothers then (What?)
Though you was nothin' other than a son of my mother's friend
We had covenant, who would of thought the love would end
Like Ice Cold's album, all good things
Neva thought we sing the same song that all hood sang
Thought it was all wood-grain, all good brain
You wouldn't bicker like the other fools talk good game
Neva imagine all the disasters that one good reign
Could bring!, should blame, the game, and I could
It's kill or be killed, how could I refrain?
And foreva be in debt, that's neva a good thing
To the pressure for success can put a good strain
On a friend you call best, and yes it could bring
Out the worst in every person, even the good and sane
Though we rehearsed, it's just ain't the same
When you put in the game at age sixteen
Then you mix things: like cars, jewelry, and miss things
Jealousy, ego, and pride, and this brings
It all to a head like coin, cha-ching
The root of evil strikes again, this could sting
Now the team got beef between the Post and the Point
This puts the ring in jeopardy - indefinitely
I feel like a black militant takin' over the government
Can't turn my back on the hood, too much love for them
Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in 'em
Probably end up back in the hood, I'm like, "fuck it then"
I'm back in the hood, they like, "Hey Nas" (Uh)
Blowin' on purp', reflectin' on they lives
Couple of fat cats, couple of A.I.'s
Dreamin' of fly shit instead of them gray skies
Gray 5's, hatah's wishin' our reign dies
Pitch, sling pies, and niggas they sing, "why"?
Guess they ain't strong enough to handle their jail time
Weak minds, keep tryin', follow the street signs
I'm standin' on the roof of my building
I'm feelin' - the whirlwind of beef, I inhale it
Just like an acrobat ready to hurl myself through the hoops of fire
Sippin' 80 proof, bulletproof under my attire
Could it be the forces of darkness, against hood angels of good
That forms street politics - makes a sweet honest kid
Turn illegal for commerce - to get his feet out of them Converse
That's my word
Credits
Writer(s): Nasir Jones, Leshan Lewis, Carmine Coppola, Sean Carter, Wyatt Coleman
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