No Idea's Original

Uhh, uhh

Uhhh, uhhh, uhhh

[Intro: repeat 2X]

No idea's original, there's nothin new under the sun

It's never what you do, but how it's done

What you base your happiness around material, women, and large paper

That means you inferior, not major

[Nas]

If niggaz could look inside my mind, you'll find

where bodies are buried, first look past the hotties who dimes

Go to the center, enter with caution, past the braincell graveyard

where weed's responsible for memory loss

Let's witness, the horrific, the stench'll make you nauseous

See what I seen every day I live with this torture

Lightin spliffs up to stay high like 24 hours

Sleep with my heat, wash with my gun in the shower

My tongue is power, it thrills women, kills demons

Long as I'm still breathin I'm still winnin, I'll teach 'em

The hood converted from trey bags to 20's a girl

Everybody had money, every summer was real ill

Four-finger rings, dope dealers, 'caine/Kane

"No Half Steppin'" with flat tops when Rakim reigned

Radios on card tables, Benetton, the Gods buildin

Ask for today's mathematics, we Allah's children

And this was goin on in every New York ghetto

Kids listened, Five Percenters said it's pork and Jell-o

We coincide, we in the same life, maybe a time difference

on a different coast, but we share the same sunlight

Your part of the world, might be like colors and gangs

While on my side, brothers'll murder for different things

But it all revolve around drugs, fame and shorties

Stuck for your bling, stripped for your chain, the same story

From, Czechoslovakia to Texas metropolis

Them, treacherous rocksters in the Mexican mafias

Be scrappin with tats on they back, violent wars

Nothin less than a lethal injection if ever caught

Courtrooms, eagles and flags, American style

While in our world, the ghetto stays incredibly foul

Watchin for paint chips, don't want no led in yo' child

But them gangstas put lead in yo' child, the bezzy be out

The chain be like a hundred K

Shinin since Roxanne Shante' made "Runaway"; that's been a minute

Genesis is deep, my features are that of a God

It's not a facade it's a fact, these rappers wanna be Nas

My Exodus doesn't exist

I'll never leave the streets, it's all in my mind

Even with sleep I'm duckin nines in my dreams

Si-rens, wide awake, why'd I think it would change

Can't hide when you famous or even try to do the same things like

Somebody's always watchin, my life

Before I, walk out the door I size up every option

Eyes cut every direction, it's like God or guns

Which is better protection? Can't decide, that's a hard one

I mean they wanna see me in prison, the chains bamboozled

Headline readin "Rapper Slain From a Man Shootin"