"MEMORY LANE" -NAS
[Hook]
"Now let me take a trip down memory lane"
"Coming outta Queensbridge"
[Verse 2]
One for the money
Two for pussy and foreign cars
Three for Alize, niggas deceased or behind bars
I rap divine, Gods check the prognosis: is it real or showbiz?
My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses
Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for real
A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja
Here's my basis, my razor embraces, many faces
Your telephone blowing, black stitches or fat shoelaces
Peoples are petrol, dramatic automatic .44 I let blow
And back down po-po when I'm vexed so
My pen taps the paper then my brain's blank
I see dark streets, hustling brothers who keep the same rank
Pumping for something, some'll prosper, plus some fail
Judges hanging niggas, uncorrect bails for direct sales
My intellect prevails from a hanging cross with nails
I reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's real
Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats
I decipher prophecies through a mic and say peace
I hung around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats
They spoke of Fat Cat, that nigga's name made bell rings, black
Some fiends scream, about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing
Uptown was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin, yo
Fuck "rap is real", watch the herbs stand still
Never talking to snakes cause the words of man kill
True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my veins
I pour my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane*
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