Uhh, y'know
I still run with that, that blood of a slave, boilin in my veins
It's just hot - until a nigga can't take it no more
Blood of a slave, heart of a King - turn my voice up
Aiyyo, the brother's "Stillmatic"
I crawled up out of that grave, wipin the dirt, cleanin my shirt
They thought I'd make another "Illmatic"
But it's always forward I'm movin
Never backwards stupid here's another classic
C-notes is fallin from the sky, by now the credits roll
They're starrin Nas, executive poet, produced directed by
the Kid slash Escobar; narration describes
the lives of lost tribes in the ghetto tryin to survive
The feature opens with this young black child, fingers scratched
Cigarette burns on the sofa, turnin the TV down
While Mary Jane Girls, 45's playin, soft in the background
Food from C-Town's, mornings was hash browns
Stepped over dopefiends, walkin out the door, all of us poor
I learned the difference between the snitches, the real ones, and who's soft
And the murderous, hungriest crews
People jumping from roofs, shotguns pumping, made it through my youth
Walking very thin lines, ages seven and nine
That's the age I was on my album cover, this is the rebirth
I know the streets thirst water like Moses
Walking through the hot desert searching to be free
This is my ending and my new beginning nostalgia
Alpha and Omega places, it's like a glitch in "The Matrix"
I seen it all, did it all, most of y'all will pop for a minute
Spit a sentence then the game'll get rid of y'all
Y'all got there but y'all didn't get it all, I want my style back
Hate to cease y'all plan it's the rap repo man
To them double up hustlers, bidders, niggaz who real
Professionals, stick-up kids dreamin for mills
Let my words guide you, get inside you
From Crip to Pirus this is survival
Blood of a slave, heart of a King
Blood of a slave, heart of a King
Uhh, uhh, blood of a slave, heart of a King
Uhh, yeah
Huh, Braveheart, uhh..
Uhh, y'know
I still run with that, that blood of a slave, boilin in my veins
It's just hot - until a nigga can't take it no more
Blood of a slave, heart of a King - turn my voice up
Aiyyo, the brother's "Stillmatic"
I crawled up out of that grave, wipin the dirt, cleanin my shirt
They thought I'd make another "Illmatic"
But it's always forward I'm movin
Never backwards stupid here's another classic
C-notes is fallin from the sky, by now the credits roll
They're starrin Nas, executive poet, produced directed by
the Kid slash Escobar; narration describes
the lives of lost tribes in the ghetto tryin to survive
The feature opens with this young black child, fingers scratched
Cigarette burns on the sofa, turnin the TV down
While Mary Jane Girls, 45's playin, soft in the background
Food from C-Town's, mornings was hash browns
Stepped over dopefiends, walkin out the door, all of us poor
I learned the difference between the snitches, the real ones, and who's soft
And the murderous, hungriest crews
People jumping from roofs, shotguns pumping, made it through my youth
Walking very thin lines, ages seven and nine
That's the age I was on my album cover, this is the rebirth
I know the streets thirst water like Moses
Walking through the hot desert searching to be free
This is my ending and my new beginning nostalgia
Alpha and Omega places, it's like a glitch in "The Matrix"
I seen it all, did it all, most of y'all will pop for a minute
Spit a sentence then the game'll get rid of y'all
Y'all got there but y'all didn't get it all, I want my style back
Hate to cease y'all plan it's the rap repo man
To them double up hustlers, bidders, niggaz who real
Professionals, stick-up kids dreamin for mills
Let my words guide you, get inside you
From Crip to Pirus this is survival
Blood of a slave, heart of a King
Blood of a slave, heart of a King
Uhh, uhh, blood of a slave, heart of a King
Uhh, yeah
Huh, Braveheart, uhh..