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Nas » Halftime
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	Right... Check me out y'all, Nasty Nas in your area About to cause mass hysteria Before a blunt, I take out my fronts Then I start to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt You couldn't catch me in the streets without a ton of reefer That's like Malcom X catching the Jungle Fever King poetic, too much flava, I'm major Atlanta and braver, I pull a number like a pager Cuz I'm am ace when I face the bass 40 side is the place that is giving me grace Now wait, another dose and you might be dead And I'm a Nike head, iwear chains that excite the feds And aint' a damn thing gonna change I'm a perform a strange show the mic wonder was born the game Nas, why did you do it? You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's halftime Right... It's halftime... It's like that, you know it's like that I got at him, now you never get the mic back When I attack, there ain't an army that could strike back So I react never calmly on a hype track I set it off wit my own rhyme Cuz I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time I'm max like cassettes, I flex like sex In your stereo sets, Nas will catch wreck I used to hustle, now all I do is relax and strive When I was young, I was a fan of the Jackson 5 I drop jewels, wear jewels hope to never run it Wit more kicks than a baby in a mother's stomach Nasty Nas has to rise, kid, surprise This is exercise til the microphone dies Back in '83, I was an MC sparking But I was too scared to grab the mics in the park and Kick my little raps cuz I thought niggaz wouldn't understand And now in every jam I'm the fuckin man I rap in front of more niggaz than in the slave ships I used to watch C.H.i.P.S, now I load glock clips I got to have it, I miss Mr. Magic Versatile, my style switches like a faggot But not a bisexual, I'm an intellectual Of rap, I'm a professional and that's no question, yo These are the lyrics of the man, you can't near it, understand Cuz in the streets, I'm well known like the number man In my place wit the bass and format Explore rap and tell me Nas ain't all that And next time I rhyme, I be foul whenever I freestyle I see trial niggaz say I'm wild I hate a rhymebiter's rhyme Stay tuned, Nas, soon the real rap comes at halftime Right... It's halftime I got it going on, even flip 'em on this song Every afternoon, I kick half the tune And in the darkness, I'm heartless like when the narcs hit Word to Marcus Garvey or heartless Sparkton Cuz when I blast the herb, that's my word I be slaying them fast, doing this, that and third But chill, past the entree and let's lay I bag bitches up at John Jay and hit a mantinee Putting hits on 5-0 Cuz when it's my time to go, I wait for God wit the fo-fo And biters can't come near And yo, go to hell to the foul cop who shot Garcia I won't plant seeds, don't need an extra mouth I can't feed That's extra Phillie change, more cash for that weed This goes out to Manhatten, the island of Staten Brooklyn, Queens is living fat and The Boogie Down, nuff props, enough clout Ill Will, rest in peace, yo, I'm out Right... It's still halftime
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