Artist: Nas
Album: Illmatic
Song: One Love
Whattup kid I know shit is rough doing your bid
When the cops came you shoulda slid to my crib
Fuck it black no time for looking back it's done
Plus congratulations you know you got a son
I heard he looks like you why don't your lady write you
Told her she should visit that's when she got hyper
Flippin talk about he acts too rough
He didn't listen he be riffin' while I'm telling him stuff
I was like yeah shorty don't care she a snake too
Fucking with the niggaz from that fake crew that hate you
But yo guess who got shot in the dome-piece
Jerome's niece on her way home from Jones Beach - it's bugged
Plus little Rob is selling drugs on the dime
Hangin out with young thugs that all carry 9's
At night time there's more trife than ever
Whattup with Cormega did you see 'em are y'all together
If so then hold the fort down represent to the fullest
Say whassup to Herb Ice and Bullet
I left a half a hundred in your commissary
You was my nigga when push came to shove
One what one love
Dear Born you'll be out soon stay strong
Out in New York the same shit is goin on
The crack-heads stalking loud-mouths is talking
Hold check out the story yesterday when I was walking
The nigga you shot last year tried to appear like he hurtin somethin
Word to mother I heard him frontin
And he be pumping on your block
Your man gave him your glock
And now they run together what up son whatever
Since I'm on the streets I'ma put it to a cease
But I heard you blew a nigga with a ox for the phone piece
Whylin on the Island but now with Elmira
Better chill cause them niggaz will put that ass on fire
Last time you wrote you said they tried you in the showers
But maintain when you come home the corner's ours
On the reels all these crab niggaz know the deal
When we start the revolution all they probably do is squeal
But chill see you on the next V-I
I gave your mom dukes loot for kicks plus sent you flicks
Your brother's buck whylin' in four maine he wrote me
He might beat his case 'til he come home I play it low key
So stay civilised time flies
Though incarcerated your mind
I hate it when your mum cries
It kinda wants to make me murder for real-a
I've even got a mask and gloves to bust slugs for one love
Sometimes I sit back with a buddha sack
Mind's in another world thinking how can we exist through the facts
Written in school text books bibles et cetera
Fuck a school lecture the lies get me vexed-er
So I be ghost from my projects
I take my pen and pad for the week and hittin L's while I'm sleepin
A two day stay you may say I need the time alone
To relax my dome no phone left the 9 at home
You see the streets have me stressed somethin terrible
Fuckin with the corners have a nigga up in Bellevue
Or h d m hit with numbers from 8 to 10
A future in a maximum state pen is grim
So I comes back home nobody's out but shorty doo-wop
Rollin two phillies together in the Bridge we called 'em oowops
He said
