Let There Be Light (feat. Tre Williams)

Yeah, check check, testing

It's clear out there? Yeah

It's like I'm hang gliding over the hood, ha

Never worry (ohhh, no, no, no)

[Verse 1]

Check, let there be light

No gang banging in New York tonight

Just murals of Biggie Smalls, bigger then life

Turn up the kid mic cuz ya'll ain't listening right

What's all this talk that Nas got bought?

I'd rather outline my body in white chalk

Ain't nobody been where I been, they at a stand still

This is all overseen by my man Will

[Chorus: Tre Williams]

As I walk through the shadow of death

I know that I ain't got much time left

And they don't really wanna see the good in me

Ain't satisfied until they see the fool in me

(And I) I know my business, so my sins great

(And I) I thank the hood for all the love they gave

(And I) Forgive 'em all, they did they best to hate

Oh, let there be light

[Verse 2]

This ain't the glorified, just painting the street picture

There's no God in sir Bibles, just blunt and switches

Gillettes cut pain in kitchen

Now every rapper wanna claim he hang with Kenneth "Supreme" Griffith

It's like the same difference cept when niggaz get arraigned

They don't want the same sentence, niggaz get to snitchin

If I could reverse the monsters and turn forward the razas

And bring back the niggaz who was livest

Old hustlers, reminscing on better days

They home, doing nothing, might as well be in a cage

Hating on young brothers, one foot in the grave

They used to love us till we found our own way thru the maze

New York, set trippin and flaggin

Got the West Coast laughing, now Esco's asking

What happened? My homegirl from upper Manhattan

She remembers the quarters that's Latin, alotta rat-a-tat-tatting

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]

The son of the audio cassette era, tech wearer

Bullets and begets, Binzbo's speaker terror

Till man I get mine till I'm dead, so I can drive sumpthin red

Like that horse standing on it's hind legs

Since Arnold and Willis in they bunk beds

I wanted bread like Wonder, not manned-a-wanno like the parent of Lionel

Nas is the Ghetto American Idol

No matter what you do you're never getting my title

I can't sound smart cuz ya'll'll run away

They say I ain't hungry no more and I don't talk about 'ye

Like there's no other way for a ex-hustler

Cake ya, the x-ray splitter to touch ya, I beg to differ

When you're four years into the game, we can have a conversation

Eight years in the game, I invite ya on vacation

Ten years in the game, after I've enjoyed my fame

Only then I let ya pick my brain, niggaz

[Bridge: Nas + (Tre Williams)]

(And I) Right about now (And I) (They don't really know)

(And I) (They don't really see) I don't even deal with all that garbage

(No, no, no) We getting real right, ya know?

(And I) (Though I walk through the valley) That is Tre Williams ladies and gentlemen

(And I) (They should fear no) (And I) (no, no-oh)

Focus on good things man, good times, Heh-heh, alright

[Chorus - 2X (with alterations)]

Oh let it be, let it be, yeah

Let it be, let it be