N.y. State Of Mind Lyrics - Illmatic - Nas

Yeah yeah, aiyyo black it's time (word?) 

(Word, it's time nigga?) 

Yeah, it's time man (aight nigga, 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 

Rappers, I monkey flip 'em with the funky rhythm 

I be kicking, musician, inflictin' composition 

Of pain, I'm like Scarface sniffin cocaine 

Holding an M-16, 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 trying to 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 hitting 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 3 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 saying?) 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 

4-5's and gauges, Macs, in fact 

Same niggas will catch a 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 

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New York state of mind 

New York state of mind 

New York state of mind 

New York state of mind 

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, buddah and shelter 

Whenever frustrated, I'm a hijack Delta 

In the P.J.'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, homes 

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'm taking 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, 20s of buddah 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 

Photos 

New York state of mind 

New York state of mind 

New York state of mind 

New York state of mind 

New York state of mind 

Nasty Nas 

Nasty Nas 

Nasty Nas...