Black Folks lyrics

[Intro: Nas]
What, what...yeah

[Verse 1: Nas]
I ain't seen as much death, nor seen as much crime
Since the blackout in Queensbridge in '79
Everybody's a killer now; pimps, playas, and dons
Shorties on the block push drops and carry on
n*ggas look through our window wherever we drove
Through the tint, to see if the Benz is matching the clothes
We the Queens kings, I used to view the cats that are old
Seeing things that made me real from my skin to my soul
Girls who turned hoes, friends who turned foes
Bad luck n*ggas who bring death wherever they go
Never sleep, it feels better to know
It's all real though

[Interlude]
Everything is real
Where we headed now?
Up to more money, would be more fun
Leave with mo' b*tches, carry more guns
Where we headed now? Where we going, yo?
It's getting real, son; we gon' let it flow
Where we Mo' b*tches, it be more dough
It be more fun, holding more...
[Verse 2: Nas]
How the hell are we supposed to excel from the street
Where the Jake's screwface young kids who wanna eat?
Quantum Leap to this Black world, hustlers and ghettos
Self-made millionaires who tussle with the devil
Bust a lil' metal lead, wrestle you, to the pebbles
On the hard ground, that's if your guard down
It's a struggle, brothers jump bail
To come chill with they n*ggas on the block, with them rocks for sale
On the horn with the god Shapelle, my Queens comrade
Yo, run and come in with the dime bag

[Verse 3: Shapelle]
Ayo, I need dat, I got to smoke dat
Send me some Chunky Black, so I could smoke away the pain
Try to find my brain, but the thought still remain
Yo, it's on again once the death stunts these chains
'Cause I been through it; the drug game, I thought I knew it
I got knocked, took it to trial, but I blew it
25, but only lived 20 years of my life
Took 5 from me; got me wrapped up like a mummy
Now I'm in the system a.k.a. the devil's home
Where they tell you where to eat, sleep, sh*t, and use the phone
Now I'm living with, drug dealers, and chain stealers
b*tch n*ggas who got knocked and turned squealers
Imagine, sharing a cell with a rehabilitated addict
Who love f*cking with faggots, but I civilized the savage
I sat him down and made him study mathematics
Now I'm sitting in the cell thinking...
About this reefer I'ma get this weekend
On the V.I., I rather be... uh, damn, damn