NAS
    
      
    
      
    N.Y. State of Mind 
    
      
    
      
    
      [Intro]
    
    
      
    
      Yeah, yeah
      
        
      Ayo, black, it's time, word 
      (Word, it's time, man)
      
        
      It's time, man (
      Aight
      , man, begin)
    
    
      
    
      Straight out the fucking dungeons of rap
    
    
      
    
      Where fake niggas don't make it back
    
    
      
    
      I don't know how to start this shit, 
      yo
      ... now
    
    
      
    
      
    
      Rappers, I monkey flip '
      em
       with the funky rhythm I be 
      kickin
      '
    
    
      
    
      Musician, 
      inflictin
      ' composition of pain
    
    
      
    
      I'm like Scarface 
      sniffin
      ' cocaine
      
        
      Holding an M16, see with the pen I'm extreme,
    
     
    
      now
    
    
      
    
      Bullet holes left in my peepholes
    
    
      
    
      I'm suited up in street clothes,
    
     
    
      hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes
    
    
      
    
      Y'all
       know my 
      steelo
       with or without the airplay
    
    
      
    
      I keep some E&J, sitting bent up in the stairway
    
    
      
    
      Or either on the corner betting Grants with the cee-lo champs
    
    
      
    
      Laughing at 
      baseheads
       
      tryna
       sell some broken amps
    
    
      
    
      G-packs get off quick,
    
     
    
      forever niggas talk shit
    
    
      
    
      Reminiscing about the last time the Task Force flipped
    
    
      
    
      Niggas be running through the block 
      shootin
      '
    
    
      
    
      Time to start the revolution, catch a body, head for Houston
    
    
      
    
      Once they caught us off-guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass and
      
        
      I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassin
    
    
      
    
      Pick the Mac up, told brothers, "Back up," the Mac spit
      
        
      Lead was 
      hittin
      ' niggas, one ran – I made him backflip
    
    
      
    
      Heard a few chicks scream, my arm shook, couldn't look
    
    
      
    
      Gave another squeeze, heard it click, "
      Yo
      , my shit is stuck"
      
        
      Try to cock it, it wouldn't shoot, now I'm in danger
    
    
      
    
      Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber
    
    
      
    
      So now I'm jetting to the building lobby
      
        
      And it was full of children probably couldn't see as high as I be
    
    
      
    
      (So what you 
      sayin
      '?)
    
     
    
      It's like the game 
      ain't
       the same
      
        
      Got younger niggas pulling the triggers bringing fame to their name
    
    
      
    
      And claim some corners,
    
     
    
      crews without guns are goners
    
    
      
    
      In broad daylight, stickup kids – they run up on us
    
    
      
    
      45's and gauges, Macs, in fact
    
    
      
    
      Same niggas will catch you back-to-back, snatching your cracks in black
    
    
      
    
      There was a snitch on the block getting niggas knocked
    
    
      
    
      So hold your stash 'til the coke price drop
    
    
      
    
      I know this crackhead who said she's got to smoke nice rock
      
        
      And if it's good, she'll bring you customers in measuring pots
    
    
      
    
      But 
      yo
      , you 
      gotta
       slide on a vacation, inside information
      
        
      Keeps large niggas 
      erasin
      ' and their wives basin'
    
    
      
    
      It drops deep as it does in my breath
    
    
      
    
      I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
    
    
      
    
      Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined
    
    
      
    
      I think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind
    
    
      
    
      Be having dreams that I'm a 
      gangsta
      ,
    
     
    
      drinking 
      Moets
      ,
    
     
    
      holding 
      Tecs
    
    
      
    
      Making sure the cash came correct, then I stepped
    
    
      
    
      Investments in stocks,
    
     
    
      sewing up the blocks to sell rocks
      
        
      Winning gunfights with mega-cops
    
    
      
    
      But just a nigga walking with his finger on the trigger
    
    
      
    
      Make enough figures until my pockets get bigger
    
    
      
    
      I 
      ain't
       the type of brother made for you to start 
      testin
      '
    
    
      
    
      Give me a Smith & Wesson, I have niggas 
      undressin
      '
    
    
      
    
      Thinking of cash flow, 
      buddha
       and shelter
    
    
      
    
      Whenever frustrated, I'm a hijack Delta
    
    
      
    
      In the PJ's, my blend tape plays,
    
     
    
      bullets are strays
    
    
      
    
      Young bitches is grazed, each block is like a maze
    
    
      
    
      Full of black rats trapped plus the Island is packed
    
    
      
    
      From what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back,
    
     
    
      black
    
    
      
    
      I'm living where the nights is jet-black
      
        
      The fiends fight to get crack,
    
     
    
      I just max, I dream I can sit back
    
    
      
    
      And lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewn
      
        
      Or the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, 
      holmes
    
    
      
    
      I got so many rhymes, I don't think I'm too sane
    
    
      
    
      Life is parallel to Hell but I must maintain
    
    
      
    
      And be prosperous, though we live dangerous
      
        
      Cops could just arrest me, blaming us, we're held like hostages
    
    
      
    
      It's only right that I was born to use mics
    
    
      
    
      And the stuff that I write is even tougher than dykes
    
    
      
    
      I've taken rappers to a new plateau,
    
     
    
      through rap slow
    
    
      
    
      My 
      rhymin
      ' is a vitamin held without a capsule
    
    
      
    
      The smooth criminal on beat breaks
    
    
      
    
      Never put me in your box if your shit eats tapes
    
    
      
    
      The city never sleeps, full of villains and creeps
      
        
      That's where I learned to do my hustle, had to scuffle with freaks
    
    
      
    
      I'm an addict for sneakers, 20's of 
      buddha
       and bitches with beepers
    
    
      
    
      In the streets I can greet 
      ya
      , about blunts I teach 
      ya
      
        
      Inhale deep like the words of my breath
    
    
      
    
      I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
      
        
      I lay puzzle as I backtrack to earlier times
    
    
      
    
      Nothing's equivalent to the New York state of mind