Ingresar
Registro
Buscar en la letra
Buscar por:
#
A
B
C
D
E
F
G
H
I
J
K
L
M
N
O
P
Q
R
S
T
U
V
W
X
Y
Z
Inicio
>
N
>
Nas
>
N Y State Of Mind
> Corregir N Y State Of Mind
Plugin Winamp
Lista de
reproducción
Corregir Letra N Y State Of Mind de Nas
Regresar a la letra N Y State Of Mind de Nas
El envío de correcciones solamente está disponible para usuarios autenticados. Debe
autenticarse
para poder realizarla.
Letra actual de la canción
[Intro: Nas]<br />Yeah yeah, aiyyo black it's time (word?)<br />(Word, it's time nigga?)<br />Yeah, it's time man (aight nigga, begin)<br />Yeah, straight out the fuckin dungeons of rap<br />Where fake niggaz don't make it back<br />I don't know how to start this shit, yo, now..<br /><br />Rappers I monkey flip 'em with the funky rhythm I be kickin<br />Musician, inflictin composition<br />of pain I'm like Scarface sniffin cocaine<br />Holdin a M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, now<br />Bulletholes left in my peepholes<br />I'm suited up in street clothes<br />Hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes<br />Y'all know my steelo with or without the airplay<br />I keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairway<br />Or either on the corner bettin Grants with the celo champs<br />Laughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken amps<br />G-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk shit<br />Reminiscing about the last time the Task Force flipped<br />Niggaz be runnin through the block shootin<br />Time to start the revolution, catch a body head for Houston<br />Once they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass and<br />I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassin<br />Picked the Mac up, told brothers, 'Back up', the Mac spit<br />Lead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflip<br />Heard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn't look<br />Gave another squeeze heard it click yo, my shit is stuck<br />Tried to cock it, it wouldn't shoot now I'm in danger<br />Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber<br />So now I'm jetting to the building lobby<br />and it was full of children probably couldn't see as high as I be<br />(So whatchu sayin?) It's like the game ain't the same<br />Got younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they name<br />and claim some corners, crews without guns are goners<br />In broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on us<br />Fo'-fives and gauges, Macs in fact<br />Same niggaz'll catch a back to back, snatchin yo' cracks in black<br />There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked<br />So hold your stash until the coke price drop<br />I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock<br />And if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo<br />You gotta slide on a vacation<br />Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin<br />It drops deep as it does in my breath<br />I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death<br />Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined<br />I think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind.<br /><br />[Chorus sampled:]<br />{New York State of Mind} (X4)<br /><br />Be havin dreams that I'ma gangster -- drinkin Moets, holdin Tecs<br />Makin sure the cash came correct then I stepped<br />Investments in stocks, sewin up the blocks<br />to sell rocks, winnin gunfights with mega cops<br />But just a nigga, walking with his finger on the trigger<br />Make enough figures until my pockets get bigger<br />I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin<br />Give me a Smith and Wessun I'll have niggaz undressin<br />Thinkin of cash flow, buddah and shelter<br />Whenever frustrated I'ma hijack Delta<br />In the P.J.'s, my blend tape plays, bullets are strays<br />Young bitches is grazed each block is like a maze<br />full of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packed<br />From what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back, black<br />I'm livin where the nights is jet black<br />The fiends fight to get crack I just max, I dream I can sit back<br />and lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewn<br />Or the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, homes<br />I got so many rhymes I don't think I'm too sane<br />Life is parallel to Hell but I must maintain<br />and be prosperous, though we live dangerous<br />cops could just arrest me, blamin us, we're held like hostages<br />It's only right that I was born to use mics<br />and the stuff that I write, is even tougher than dykes<br />I'm takin rappers to a new plateau, through rap slow<br />My rhymin is a vitamin, held without a capsule<br />The smooth criminal on beat breaks<br />Never put me in your box if your shit eats tapes<br />The city never sleeps, full of villians and creeps<br />That's where I learned to do my hustle had to scuffle with freaks<br />I'ma addict for sneakers, twenties of buddah and bitches with beepers<br />In the streets I can greet ya, about blunts I teach ya<br />Inhale deep like the words of my breath<br />I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death<br />I lay puzzled as I backtrack to earlier times<br />Nothing's equivalent, to the New York state of mind.<br /><br />[Chorus X4]<br /><br />(cut and scratched:)<br />{Nasty Nas} (X8)
Letra nueva de la canción
[Intro: Nas]<br />Yeah yeah, aiyyo black it's time (word?)<br />(Word, it's time nigga?)<br />Yeah, it's time man (aight nigga, begin)<br />Yeah, straight out the fuckin dungeons of rap<br />Where fake niggaz don't make it back<br />I don't know how to start this shit, yo, now..<br /><br />Rappers I monkey flip 'em with the funky rhythm I be kickin<br />Musician, inflictin composition<br />of pain I'm like Scarface sniffin cocaine<br />Holdin a M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, now<br />Bulletholes left in my peepholes<br />I'm suited up in street clothes<br />Hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes<br />Y'all know my steelo with or without the airplay<br />I keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairway<br />Or either on the corner bettin Grants with the celo champs<br />Laughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken amps<br />G-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk shit<br />Reminiscing about the last time the Task Force flipped<br />Niggaz be runnin through the block shootin<br />Time to start the revolution, catch a body head for Houston<br />Once they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass and<br />I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassin<br />Picked the Mac up, told brothers, 'Back up', the Mac spit<br />Lead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflip<br />Heard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn't look<br />Gave another squeeze heard it click yo, my shit is stuck<br />Tried to cock it, it wouldn't shoot now I'm in danger<br />Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber<br />So now I'm jetting to the building lobby<br />and it was full of children probably couldn't see as high as I be<br />(So whatchu sayin?) It's like the game ain't the same<br />Got younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they name<br />and claim some corners, crews without guns are goners<br />In broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on us<br />Fo'-fives and gauges, Macs in fact<br />Same niggaz'll catch a back to back, snatchin yo' cracks in black<br />There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked<br />So hold your stash until the coke price drop<br />I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock<br />And if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo<br />You gotta slide on a vacation<br />Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin<br />It drops deep as it does in my breath<br />I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death<br />Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined<br />I think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind.<br /><br />[Chorus sampled:]<br />{New York State of Mind} (X4)<br /><br />Be havin dreams that I'ma gangster -- drinkin Moets, holdin Tecs<br />Makin sure the cash came correct then I stepped<br />Investments in stocks, sewin up the blocks<br />to sell rocks, winnin gunfights with mega cops<br />But just a nigga, walking with his finger on the trigger<br />Make enough figures until my pockets get bigger<br />I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin<br />Give me a Smith and Wessun I'll have niggaz undressin<br />Thinkin of cash flow, buddah and shelter<br />Whenever frustrated I'ma hijack Delta<br />In the P.J.'s, my blend tape plays, bullets are strays<br />Young bitches is grazed each block is like a maze<br />full of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packed<br />From what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back, black<br />I'm livin where the nights is jet black<br />The fiends fight to get crack I just max, I dream I can sit back<br />and lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewn<br />Or the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, homes<br />I got so many rhymes I don't think I'm too sane<br />Life is parallel to Hell but I must maintain<br />and be prosperous, though we live dangerous<br />cops could just arrest me, blamin us, we're held like hostages<br />It's only right that I was born to use mics<br />and the stuff that I write, is even tougher than dykes<br />I'm takin rappers to a new plateau, through rap slow<br />My rhymin is a vitamin, held without a capsule<br />The smooth criminal on beat breaks<br />Never put me in your box if your shit eats tapes<br />The city never sleeps, full of villians and creeps<br />That's where I learned to do my hustle had to scuffle with freaks<br />I'ma addict for sneakers, twenties of buddah and bitches with beepers<br />In the streets I can greet ya, about blunts I teach ya<br />Inhale deep like the words of my breath<br />I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death<br />I lay puzzled as I backtrack to earlier times<br />Nothing's equivalent, to the New York state of mind.<br /><br />[Chorus X4]<br /><br />(cut and scratched:)<br />{Nasty Nas} (X8)
Digite lo que ve en la imagen