Текст песни Nas - Disciple
Nas - Disciple слова песни
[Intro]Nas "Two-thousand-four, yeah. L, whattup?"L.E.S. "Prophesy!"Nas "Yeah."L.E.S. "Prophesy baby!"[Chorus: Nas & L.E.S.]Disciple, Disciple (What?!) Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (Let`s go!)[Verse 1: Nas]Word to mama, any lineup of rhymersCould bring any drama, anytime, the city`s mineNas Is Like, Love Undying, Money`s My BitchIn Thugz Mansion, thugs dancin` around the fly shitPharaoh garment`s Prada, Egyptian camelback-ridersPyramid architects, Perignon bottles, money, jewelry want me to comeGet me, hit me but don`t miss me, you historyLead flowin` around like a Frisbee, Italian dons from Sicily kiss meThis ain`t 50, this ain`t Jigga, this ain`t Diddy, this ain`t PrettyPain, power, pussy and pistols, lyrically no one, hold none near me, hear meKids cheer me like The Count of Monte-CristoSteady poundin` soundin` like G without the lisp thoughMy big bro told me plain and simple, "Nas do not look back"Watch where you took rap, no bookbags and trucker hatsJust army jacks and diamonds that`s flashin`What the fuck is that, freestyle[Chorus: Nas & L.E.S.]Disciple, Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (Esco!)[Verse 2: Nas]Like Paul, Michael and Matthew, Peter, James and AndrewPhillip, Simon and Judas -- I`m disciple of musicStreet beats is the main thing minus the traitorAnd I`m not a dictator, I`m the righteous invitin` you hatersInside the life of the greatest, it`ll take you through something realGet a smack in your face, `cause I hurt up, trauma-tize, llamaBust shells, destroy yet try`ta prevent violenceIf I present iron somebody dyin`, don`t even worry `bout itThen dress warm for the cemetery climateWhen I speak I need cemetery silence, terrorSee me, gold Hummers, Lamborghinis, man who stole the summerHand straight gleamin`, if I don`t know you toe-tag youDrag you through the cement, fo-fo maggieBody parts in my man`s Maserati car, then party hard in MadagascarWhile rigor mortis`ll grab ya, him retarded, I`m pass thatGloves on, where the mask at? Too many love songsAll the thugs gone, what happened? Where`s the passion?Rappers battlin` non-rappers, carryin` on backwardsLaughin` sayin` Nas thinks he`s Farrakhan preachin` blacknessHell yeah, awareness is my aliasWord to the `Braveheart` written on my bare chestThe realest, HERE IT IS![Chorus: Nas & L.E.S.]Disciple, Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (STREET`S!)Disciple (Street`s!)Disciple (Street`s!)Disciple (Esco!)