"Two-thousand-four, yeah. L, whattup?"
"Prophesy!"
"Yeah."
"Prophesy baby!"
Disciple, Disciple (What?!) Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (Lets go!)
Word to mama, any lineup of rhymers
Could bring any drama, anytime, the citys mine
Nas Is Like, Love Undying, Moneys My Bitch
In Thugz Mansion, thugs dancin around the fly shit
Pharaoh garments Prada, Egyptian camelback-riders
Pyramid architects, Perignon bottles, money, jewelry want me to come
Get me, hit me but dont miss me, you history
Lead flowin around like a Frisbee, Italian dons from Sicily kiss me
This aint 50, this aint Jigga, this aint Diddy, this aint Pretty
Pain, power, pussy and pistols, lyrically no one, hold none near me, hear me
Kids cheer me like The Count of Monte-Cristo
Steady poundin soundin like G without the lisp though
My big bro told me plain and simple, "Nas do not look back"
Watch where you took rap, no bookbags and trucker hats
Just army jacks and diamonds thats flashin
What the fuck is that, freestyle
Disciple, Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (Esco!)
Like Paul, Michael and Matthew, Peter, James and Andrew
Phillip, Simon and Judas -- Im disciple of music
Street beats is the main thing minus the traitor
And Im not a dictator, Im the righteous invitin you haters
Inside the life of the greatest, itll take you through something real
Get a smack in your face, cause I hurt up, trauma-tize, llama
Bust shells, destroy yet tryta prevent violence
If I present iron somebody dyin, dont even worry bout it
Then dress warm for the cemetery climate
When I speak I need cemetery silence, terror
See me, gold Hummers, Lamborghinis, man who stole the summer
Hand straight gleamin, if I dont know you toe-tag you
Drag you through the cement, fo-fo maggie
Body parts in my mans Maserati car, then party hard in Madagascar
While rigor mortisll grab ya, him retarded, Im pass that
Gloves on, where the mask at? Too many love songs
All the thugs gone, what happened? Wheres the passion?
Rappers battlin non-rappers, carryin on backwards
Laughin sayin Nas thinks hes Farrakhan preachin blackness
Hell yeah, awareness is my alias
Word to the Braveheart written on my bare chest
The realest, HERE IT IS!
Disciple, Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (STREETS!)
Disciple (Streets!)
Disciple (Streets!)
Disciple (Esco!)
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