Who Wanna Be a Star? (It's Brand Nu Baby)

[Chorus: Sadat X]

Who wanna be a star? Be out late night under the moon

Got a plan to get dough and be rich by June

And all the broads, sexual, yeah ultimate head

But, over one chick I seen two niggaz dead

Who's God? Know theyself and still know math

And be that same bad nigga that's hawkin on the ave

It's Brand Nu baby, it's Brand Nu

It's Brand Nu baby, it's Brand Nu

[Lord Jamar]

Uhhh, Lord Jamar, rap caviar

Guitar loop in a Jaguar Coupe

Combat boots, fatigue suit, niggaz that's ready to shoot

and "Ready to Die" like Biggie Smalls

We can drop our drawers, see who got the bigger balls

The way I act'll be forever called a nigga y'all

Tattoos on my arms and neck, bomb the set

If you havin trouble payin me, pawn the baguettes

Cause I be comin armed with, more than a threat

All my LG niggaz, why don't y'all tell these niggaz

Treat 'em like paper trees and fell these niggaz

Now it's all I can do not to smell these niggaz

These Brooklyn blocks is lookin hot

These motherfuckin cops, is tryin to put me in they cookin pot

But the shit it ain't gon' never stop

Forever playin the block, if you like it or not

[Chorus]

[Sadat X]

At the bassline I blow your mind at the top

When the melody drop - I'm still here

It's psycho Western what happened on Creston A-V-E

Bronx community, one-eight-three

Who is the summer heat for winter leather

Rims, rings, neck look gleamy bitch eyes look steamy

She said she been smokin outdoor all day

Let my find out my Bronx niggaz hit you I'll be up when it's {?}

When the sun go down, I lose round on the ground

One stuck in your crown, whoever zoos rendezvous

with they crews, these drawers rip for free

And if I can't touch, then I got to pop the clutch

Non-touchin broad is a fraud

She prayed to the Lord and get fucked in a Ford

And she a bad bitch, daddy rich, cousin used to pitch

Faggot-ass brother gotta switch

[Chorus]

[Grand Puba]

Uhh, now from way back when, when you gettin up goin to work

I'm just gettin in, smellin like a pint of gin

Up in the rathole, where ghetto bitches sellin they souls

Cause it's after 4 and all the discoes is closed

Nigga I'm up when you up, and I'm up when you sleep

Bouncin around in the black dirty offroad Jeep

Wakin people up tryin to sleep

Cause like the first time, this time, we makin the beats

The undeniable, satisfiable, reliable, Brand Nubian

Now you know we come with the bomb

So hi-tech, see us on your DVD-ROM

Get love from little kids like a Pokemon

Everytime we spit that shit it be our word is bond

See I been down in the trenches where projects hazard

Where them visions of wire fences and dopefiends ran the yard

I ain't the sixth sense, I'm the 7th sense

[Chorus] - 2X