[Verse One: Jay-Z] Y'all wanna know, why he don't stop Y'all wanna know, why he don't flop Let me tell you pe-eople why Came from the bottom of the block I When I was born, it was sworn, I was never gon' be shit Had to pull the opposite out this bitch Had to get my ri-ide on Eyes on the prize, Shawn knew I had to Had to had to get these chips Had to make moves like Olajuwon Started out sellin dimes and nicks Graduated to a brick No exaggeration, my infatuation with the strip Legendary like a schoolboy Crushin merely nearly every every chick Heavy shit - that's how schoolboy got whipped And got left on some "Just +Me, Myself and I+" On some Trugoy shit Had your boys threw place up, to a place of no return Had to play with fire and get burned Only way the boy ever gon' learn Had to lay way in the cut, 'til I finally got my turn Now I'm on top in the spot that I earned Chorus I would of fell with you To Hell with you [Verse Two: Nas] If Heaven was a mile away And you could ride by the gates Would you try to run inside when it opens would you try to die today? Would you pray louder finally believing His power? Even if you couldn't see, but you could feel would you still doubt him? How would you start acting? Would you try to put the ki's down? Thinking every drug sell that you make in the streets He can see now Would a fiend even want to get high, would he stop smoking? If he knew on his own two feet he could just stroll in To get away and escape from the craziness And I bet you there's a Heaven for an atheist It's hard taking this Racist planet where they take another brother in a handcuff Even if he innocent nigga get on the car put your motherfucking hands up Thinking I'm a lose it My mom's in chemo Three times a week, yo keep trying but people Is hard and God your young soldier's not so bold But needs you This world's my home but world I would leave you Chorus I would of fell with you To Hell with you

[Verse 1: Nas] Uh, uh, uh, now let's get it all in perspective For all y'all enjoyment, a song y'all can step wit' Y'all appointed me to bring rap justice But I ain't five-O, y'all know it's Nas yo Grey goose and a whole lotta hydro Only describe us as soldier survivors Stay laced in the best, well dressed with finesse In a white tee lookin for wifie Thug girl who fly and talks so nicely Put her in the coupe so she can feel the nice breeze We can drive thru the city no doubt, but don't say my car's topless Say the titties is out, newness here's the anthem Put your hand up that you shoot with, count your loot wit' Push the pool stick in your new crib, same hand that you hoop with Swing around like you stu-pid, king'a the town, yeah I been that You know I click-clack where you and yor men's at Do the Smurf, do the Wop, Baseball Bat Rooftop like we bringing '88 back Chorus Justify my thug! "For you!" My thug.. (hoping..) My thug.. (praying..) for you to justify my thug! My thug.. (hoping..) My thug.. (praying..) for you.. "For you!" [Verse 2: Jay-Z] It goes one o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock rock Five six seven o'clock, eight o'clock rock Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, the party bout to pop Then - Roc-A-Fella y'all, it's your boy S. Dot And I ain't never been to jail; I ain't never pay a nigga to do no dirt for me I was scared to do myself I will never tell even if it means sittin in a cell I ain't never ran, never will I ain't never been smacked; a nigga better keep his hands to himself or get clapped for what's under that man's belt I never asked for nothin I don't demand of myself Honesty, loyalty, friends and then wealth Death before dishonor and I tell you what else I tighten my belt 'fore I beg for help Foolish pride is what held me together through the years I wasn't felt which is why I ain't never played myself I just play the hand I'm dealt, I can't say I've never knelt before God and asked for better cards at times to no avail But I never sat back feelin sorry for myself If you don't give me heaven I'll raise hell 'Til it's heaven Chorus Justify my thug! "For you!" My thug.. (hoping..) My thug.. (praying..) for you to justify my thug! My thug.. (hoping..) My thug.. (praying..) for you.. "For you!"

[Verse One: Jay-Z] They say they never really miss you 'til you dead or you gone So on that note I'm leavin after this song See you ain't gotta feel no way about Jay so long At least let me tell you why I'm this way, hold on I was conceived by Gloria Carter and Adnus Reeves Who made love under the sycamore tree Which makes me, a more sicker MC and my momma would claim At ten pounds when I was born I didn't give her no pain Although through the years I gave her her fair share I gave her her first real scare, I made up for birth when I got here She knows my purpose wasn't hurt cause I ain't perfect, I care But I feel worthless cause my shirts wasn't matchin my gear Now I'm just scratchin the surface cause what's buried under there Was a kid torn apart once his pop disappeared I went to school, got good grades, could behave when I wanted But I had demons deep inside that would raise when confronted Hold on [Verse Two: Nas] Book one, strategy, tactics, techniques Look dumb, but massively notice the weakness, in all them Gotta shoot only if necessary Homey vest is very real if enemies carrying heavy steal Beware the thugs who ain't scared of blood or jail time Where Arian nations ain't having integration, we so blind The beauty of life, was when my mom said nigga you could be Christ I wasn't old enough to hold my dick and pee right, "Jesus"! What is he like? I picture him standing with diamonds on him Little different from the way my mommy saw him Practice your aiming, physical training in, difficult terrain and Test your endurance, try to keep your stamina banging Splitting dutches up, strap up, the armies is school Teaching smart ways to kill, I'm thinking Ghandi was a fool But chronic's a fool; got me thinking out loud, fuck it Sleep on my drunkenness I'll blow your brains out

[Intro: Nas] I want you to close your eyes And vision the most beautiful place in the world If you in the hood on the ghetto street corner Come on this journey The best journey Acres of land and swimming pools and all that Check it out [Verson One: Nas] I'm capable of anything, my imagination can give me wings To fly like does over the streets watchin' many things Kids walkin' home from school on drug block missionaries Pass out papers that read: Love God See faces, cases, judges, juries, masons, lawyers and cops I watch because every thugs face is my mirror But this was one in particular This kid he was the vintage stick em up pro 16 years old, did his jail sentence, nowhere to go Every mornin calls his comrad to come and get him to smoke He insane, already gone mad Blames himself for his setbacks Dangerous street corners where his sets at Slang from dust to dawn, detectives act like they maniacs Chasin' him, his ass was flarin' Smokin' like a chimney, on really, of course he not carin' He need a place to go to keep his mind expandin' I give him a helpin' hand, bring him out to Thugz Mansion [Chorus: J. Phoenix] Every corner, every city There's a place where life's a little busy Little Hennessy, laid back and cool Every hour, cause it's all good Leave all the stress from the world outside Every wrong done will be alright Nothin but peace, love And street passion, every ghetto needs a thug mansion [Verse Two: 2Pac] Dear momma don't cry, your baby boy's doin good Tell the homies I'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods Seen a show with Marvin Gaye last night, it had me shook Drippin peppermint Schnapps, with Jackie Wilson, and Sam Cooke Then some lady named Billie Holiday Sang sittin there kickin it with Malcolm, 'til the day came Little LaTasha sho' grown Tell the lady in the liquor store that she's forgiven, so come home Maybe in time you'll understand only God can save us When Miles Davis cuttin lose with the band Just think of all the people that you knew in the past that passed on, they in heaven, found peace at last Picture a place that they exist, together There has to be a place better than this, in heaven So right before I sleep, dear God, what I'm askin Remember this face, save me a place, in thug's mansion [Chorus] [Verson Three: Jay-Z] The allure of breakin the law Is always too much for me to ever ignore I gotta thing for them big body Benzes, it dulls my senses In love with a V-Dub engine Man I'm high off life, fuck it I'm wasted Bathing Ape kicks, Audemar Piguet wrists My women friend get tennis bracelets Trips to Venice, get they winters replaced with the sun, it ain't even fun no more I'm jaded Man, it's just a game, I just play it to play it I put my feet in the footprints left to me Without sayin a word, the ghetto's got a mental telepathy Man my brother hustled so, naturally Up next is me, but what perplexes me Shit I know how this movie ends, still I play the starrin role in "Hovito's Way" [Chorus]

[Chorus 2X: Nas] I carry the cross, if Virgin Mary had an abortion I'd still be carried in the chariot by stampeding horses Had to bring it back to New York I'm happy that the streets is back in New York For you rappers, I carry the cross [Verse One: Nas] Y'all can keep y'all weak beats, from your corny producers There's a new king of the streets, you're gonna get used to I was the old king of the streets, that y'all once hated But now I reinvented myself, and y'all all waited NAS, N.A.S. mean Niggaz Against Society Noisy I aim not silently, noose all surroundin me I hang 'em I string 'em up ain't no thing I just drop 'em to which doctor you copped and you locked and it ain't what it was I changed it up from that pop shit it's hard to see R&B rappers arguably, started fuckin up the game horribly Cause, I parted the sea, then these novices targetted me Bitches infatuated say they love me lyin to me What I've discovered is my brother's tryin to be the next me, yeah I support him but he's blinded I see jealousy he love me to death am I buggin I love him for life We both still mournin on our mother's, life And I don't need much but a Dutch, a bitch to fuck A six, a truck, some guns to bust I wish it was that simple, the last emperor, hit yo' ass with the Nasty Nas, diary, get out my path [Chorus] [Verse Two: Jay-Z] Pop died, didn't cry, didn't know him that well Between him doin heroin and me doin crack sales With that in the eggshell, standin at the tabernacle Rather the church, pretendin to be hurt, wouldn't work So a smirk was all on my face Like damn, that man's face is just like my face So pop, I forgive you for all the shit that I lived through It wasn't all your fault, homey you got caught Into the same game I fought, that Uncle Ray lost My big brothers and so many others I saw I'm just glad we got to see each other Talk and re-meet each other Save a place in heaven 'til the next time we meet forever! [Chorus] [Verse Three: Jay-Z] Music business hate me cause the industry ain't make me Hustlers and boosters embrace me and the music I be makin I dumbed down for my audience to double my dollars They criticized me for it yet they all yell "HOLLA!" If skills sold, truth be told, I'd probably be lyrically, Talib Kweli Truthfully I wanna rhyme like Common Sense But I did five mill' - I ain't been rhymin like Common since When your cents got that much in common And you been hustlin since, your inception Fuck perception go with what makes sense Since I know what I'm up against We as rappers must decide what's most impor-tant And I can't help the poor if I'm one of them So I got rich and gave back, to me that's the win/win So next time you see the homey and his rims spin Just know my mind is workin just like them... [Chorus]

[Verse One: Jay-Z] There's never been a nigga this good for this long This hood, or this pop, this hot, or this strong With so many different flows there's one for this song The next one I switch up, this one will get bit up These fucks, too lazy to make up shit, they crazy They don't, paint pictures, they just, trace me You know what? Soon they forget where they plucked they whole style from, they try to reverse the outcome I'm like - TOUGH! I'm not a biter I'm a writer for myself and others I say a B.I.G. verse, I'm only biggin up my brother Biggin up my borough, I'm big enough to do it I'm that thorough, plus I know my own flow is foolish So them rings and things you sing about, bring 'em out It's hard to yell when the bar-rell's in your mouth I'm in - new sneakers, dual-seaters Few divas, what more can I tell you? [Chorus] What more can I sayyyyyyyyyyy? What more can I doooooooooooo? I gave this up to youuuuuuuuu I know this much is truuuuuue, truuuuuuue [Verse Two: Nas] New York streets where killers'll walk like Pistol Pete And Pappy Mason, gave the young boys admiration Prince from Queens and Fritz from Harlem Street legends, the drugs kept the hood from starvin Pushin cars, Nicky Barnes was the 70's But there's a long list of high-profile celebrities Worldwide on the thorough side of things Livest kings, some died, one guy, one time one day grabs me, as I'm about to blast heat 40-side of Vernon, I turned well he asked me "Whatchu up to, the cops gon' bust you" I was a teen drunk off brew, stumbled I wondered if God sent him, cause two squad cars entered the block and looked at us, I ain't flinch when they watched I took it upstairs, the bathroom mirror, brushed my hair Starin at a young disciple, I almost gave my life to what the dice do [Chorus] [Verse Three: Nas] Some niggaz fuck they enemies in they ass when they catch 'em Weird-ass niggaz are dangerous, so don't test 'em They make you, dissapear, this a year that I won't forget Sold CD's double platinum, met mo' execs Southern niggaz, independent label, real killers Know the business, ran Tennessee for years, now they chillin They had the coke game somethin crazy Sold music out the trunk of they car, that shit amazed me Put me onto heron blunts, sherm or somethin Took a puff, what the fuck, I turned to punch them Southern niggaz ain't slow, nigga tried to play me I left from around them dudes, they cool but they crazy Now I'm back around the old school that raised me New York gangstas, we loungin, out in L.A. see A dude wrote my dawg from Pelican Bay The letter say, "Nas I got your back - the fools don't play"

[Verse One: Jay-Z] Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya Am I frightenin ya? Shall I continue? I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song I let it hum to ya, the other one sing along Now it's a duet, and you wet, when you check out the technique from the 2 tecs and I don't need two lips To blow this like a trumpet you dumb shit This is a un-usual musical I conductin You lookin at the black Warren Buffett so all critics can duck sic I don't care if you C. Delores Tuck-it Or you Bill O'Reilly, you only rylin me up For three years, they had me peein out of a cup Now they bout to free me up, whatchu think I'm gon' be, what? Rehabilitated, man I still feel hatred I'm young black and rich so they wanna strip me naked, but You never had me like Christina Aguiler-y But catch me down the Westside, drivin like Halle Berry Or the FDR, in the seat of my car Screamin out the sunroof death to y'all You can't kill me, I live forever through these bars I put the wolves on ya, I put a price on your head The whole hood'll want ya, you startin to look like bread I send them boys at ya, I ain't talkin bout Feds Nigga them body-snatchers, nigga you heard what I said [Verse Two: Nas] Velvet bowties, bulletproofs in the tux, when I roll by In car similar to a suanas, in my diamonds And my principal is to study drama Look what happened in Manhattan A couple of years ago when guns started clappin' Two of my dogs fell, two of my niggaz ran They was amatures in beef with a grown man It taught me the lessons of how the strong stand And how the weak, end up in a coffin Play it cool, that's the old school rule, man Keep your ears to the street, y'all never lose man Make your enemies believe there's love there Cause in war, belief is all fair Rock them to sleep, shots in your jeep And you ain't never know the plot was from me It's from my Masterminds [Verse Three: Jay-Z] Grown man I put hands on you I dig a hole in the desert, they build The Sands on you Lay out blueprint plans on you We Rat Pack niggaz, let Sam tap dance on you Then, I Sinatra shot ya God damn you ... I put the boy in the box like David Blaine Let the audience watch, it ain't a thang Y'all wish I was frontin, I George Bush the button Front of all you in your car lift up your hood nigga run it Then lift up your whole hood like you got oil under it Your boy got the goods y'all don't want nuttin of it Like, castor oil, I Castor Troy you Change your face or the bullets change all that for you ... y'all niggaz is targets Y'all garages for bullets, please don't make me park it in your upper level, valet a couple strays from the 38 special, nigga, God bless you

[Nas] Y'all don't know about my Biggie wars Who you thought 'Kick In The Door' was for? But that's my heart, y'all still trippin of this Jigga shit Real niggaz listen up and I'ma tell you how the whole thing start Off top I brung Queens up from hard times Rockin at the Fever, streets was all mine It was my version of the blues, droppin our schools The crack epidemic had rap representin new rules So I, got in 'em shoes, tried 'em wore them Wasn't a perfect fit, so I couldn't sport em Young murderers ride, I knew all them Jungle got shot, Will died, we was warring I wrote it in my album I was 18 when Lake seen the Island And Lord held me down and My surroundings started changing I had a baby, I was making my rounds with AZ Niggaz started noticing my flow and was open when The Golden Child closed 'em in with more style than them older men Puff tried to start a label, Prince Rakeem had formed Wu-Tang Snoop and Dre had a new thang So Puff drove his new Range through Queensbridge Projects He let me drive it, before Ready to Die hit BIG and I hit blunts performing at the Arc Next thing you knew, BIG blew and all the balling starts He had Kim and his crew, I found Fox Only niggaz in New York with number one charts B.I.G. was ahead of his time, him and Raekwon my niggaz But dig it, they couldn't get along That's when Ghostface said it on the Purple tape Bad Boy biting Nas album cover way(?) BIG told me Rae was stealing my slang And Rae told me out in Shaolin BIG would do the same thing But I borrowed from both them niggaz Jigga started to flow like us, but hit with 'Ain't No Niggaz' Had much Versace swagger B.I.G. admired the Brooklyn knight and it took him in as Iceberg the rapper Today don't know nothing, about this bullshit There's more shit than wanting to be this King of New York shit [Jay-Z] Ving ain't lie I done came through the block in everything that's fly I'm like, Che Guevara with bling on, I'm complex I never claimed to have wings on Nigga I get mine - by any means on whenever there's a drought Get your umbrellas out because, that's when I brainstorm You can blame Shawn, but I ain't invent the game I just rolled the dice, tryin to get some change And I do it twice, ain't no sense in me lyin as if, I am a different man And I could blame my environment but there ain't no reason why I be buyin expensive chains Hope you don't think users are the only abusers Niggaz, gettin high within the game If you do then, how would you explain? I'm ten years removed, still the vibe is in my veins I got a hustler spirit, nigga period Check out my hat yo, peep the way I wear it Check out my swag' yo, I walk like a ballplayer No matter where you go, you are what you are player And you can try to change but that's just the top layer Man, you was who you was 'fore you got here Only God can judge me, so I'm gone Either love me, or leave me alone

[Chorus: Jay-Z] If you feelin like a pimp nigga, go and brush your shoulders off Ladies is pimps too, go and brush your shoulders off Niggaz is crazy baby, don't forget that boy told you Get, that, dirt off your shoulder [Verse One: Jay-Z] I probably owe it to y'all, proud to be locked by the force Tryin to hustle some things, that go with the Porsche Feelin no remorse, feelin like my hand was forced Middle finger to the law, nigga grippin my balls Said the ladies they love me, from the bleachers they screamin All the ballers is bouncin they like the way I be leanin All the rappers be hatin, off the track that I'm makin But all the hustlers they love it just to see one of us make it Came from the bottom the bottom, to the top of the pots Nigga London, Japan and I'm straight off the block Like a running back, get it man, I'm straight off the block I can run it back nigga cause I'm straight with the Roc [Chorus] [Chorus Two] You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder [Verse Two: Nas] Fight 'til the fight is over, for my peoples I die see When you thought they were soldiers they turned out to be nobodies I think they out to get me, helpless was livin' sinful If you was me all this pain I'm feelin would bend and killed you (I'm a warrior) It only made me stronger But in my head it gets darker who wishin' evil on ya Sometimes I wish I was dead But I took heed to the cause (I'm a Warrior, yeah) They can't break me or shake me They too fake to come kill me Think they faith is with Satan They mistake me I'm filthy Rich off the ghetto medleys, so now they wanna dare me It's gonna be a murder confront me, the burners are empty Middle Passage I made it I'm from the land of David The Nazarene of Bethlehem they had me wrapped in blankets Ya bunch of backward gangsters Y'all signin affidavits Snitches with smiling faces, got you blowin trial, I hate this [Chorus] [Chorus Two]

[Nas] G-O-D S-O-N I S-O-O-T-H-E a female's estrogen With my testosterone, male hormone Enough for a giant's body, science S-C-I-E-N-C-E Don't tempt me, EMS against you, me I'm just, invincible Like Mike Jack said, for me and Al Sharpton won't be Broke in Harlem That's that, who made this style, solo or X Are you TFO's doctor or Mobb Deep Whoever, I freaked it yes, so meet ya death I never wear Esco, I got a New Line comin' like cinemas Remember the, original, y'all still tryina show niggas are rich Town house niggas I'm six cribs deep, six bank accounts in six countries Na I'm lyin', who gives a fuck that's so tired While pictures of Bravehearts just livin' it up A million of us, each nigga inchin' ta bust You got a house in Virginia The only way you sicker than us Gettin' bagged with .22's now you's a ridiculous fuck No need for the gun play, it's ok, 'cause you dyin' anyway [Jay-Z] I got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed Rap critics that say he's "Money, Cash, Hoes" I'm from the hood stupid, what type of facts are those? If you grew up with holes in your zapatoes You'd celebrate the minute you was havin dough I'm like fuck critics, you can kiss my whole asshole If you don't like my lyrics, you can press fast forward Got beef with radio if I don't play they show they don't play my hits - well I don't give a shit, SO! Rap mags try and use my black ass So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads, fuckers! I don't know what you take me as Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has I'm from, rags to riches, niggaz I ain't dumb I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one - hit me!