Halftime
by Nas

Album: Zebrahead (Original Soundtrack) (1992)
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  • (Right, right, right, right)
    (Right, right, right, right)
    Check me out y'all
    Nasty Nas in your area
    About to cause mass hysteria

    Before a blunt, I take out my fronts
    Then I start to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
    You couldn't catch me in the streets without a ton of reefer
    That's like Malcolm X catching the Jungle Fever
    King poetic, too much flavor, I'm major
    Atlanta ain't Brave-r, I pull a number like a pager
    'Cause I'm a ace when I face the bass
    40 side is the place that is giving me grace
    Now wait, another dose and you might be dead
    And I'm a Nike head, I wear chains that excite the feds
    And ain't a damn thing gonna change
    I'm a performer, strange, so the mic wonder warmer was born to gain
    Nas, why did you do it?
    You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's halftime

    (Right, right, right, right) It's halftime
    (Right, right, right, right) Ayo, it's halftime
    (Right, right, right, right) It's halftime
    (Right, right, right, right) Yeah, it's about halftime
    This is how it feel, check it out, how it feel

    It's like that, you know it's like that
    I got it hemmed, now you never get the mic back
    When I attack, there ain't an army that could strike back
    So I react, never calmly on a hype track
    I set it off with my own rhyme
    'Cause I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time
    I'm max like cassettes, I flex like sex
    In your stereo sets, Nas'll catch wreck
    I used to hustle, now all I do is relax and strive
    When I was young, I was a fan of the Jackson 5
    I drop jewels, wear jewels to never run it
    With more kicks than a baby in a mother's stomach
    Nasty Nas has to rise 'cause I'm wise
    This is exercise 'til the microphone dies
    Back in '83, I was an MC sparking
    But I was too scared to grab the mic's in the park and
    Kick my little raps 'cause I thought niggas wouldn't understand
    And now in every jam, I'm the fucking man
    I rap in front of more niggas than in the slave ships
    I used to watch CHiPs, now I load Glock clips
    I got to have it, I miss Mr. Magic
    Versatile, my style switches like a faggot
    But not a bisexual, I'm an intellectual
    Of rap, I'm a professional and that's no question, yo
    These are the lyrics of the man, you can't near it, understand?
    'Cause in the streets, I'm well known like the number man
    Am I in place with the bass and format?
    Explore rap and tell me Nas ain't all that
    And next time I rhyme, I be foul whenever I freestyle
    I see trial, niggas say I'm wild
    I hate a rhyme biter's rhyme
    Stay tuned, Nas soon, the real rap comes at halftime

    (Right, right, right, right) It's halftime
    (Right, right, right, right) Exhale, check it, it's halftime
    (Right, right, right, right) It's halftime
    (Right, right, right, right) It's real in the field
    Real life, check it

    I got it going on, even flip a morning song
    Every afternoon, I kick half the tune
    And in the darkness, I'm heartless like when the narcs hit
    Word to Marcus Garvey, I hardly sparked it
    'Cause when I blast the herb, that's my word
    I be slaying 'em fast, doing this, that in the third
    But chill, pass the Andre and let's slay
    I bag bitches up at John Jay and hit a matinee
    Putting hits on 5-0
    'Cause when it's my time to go, I wait for God wit the fo-fo
    And biters can't come near
    And yo, go to hell to the foul cop who shot Garcia
    I won't plant seeds, don't need an extra mouth I can't feed
    That's extra Phillie change, more cash for damp weed
    This goes out to Manhattan, the Island of Staten
    Brooklyn and Queens is living fat and
    The Boogie Down, enough props, enough clout
    Ill will, rest in peace, yo, I'm out

    (Right, right, right, right) It's still halftime
    (Right, right, right, right) To the Queensbridge crew
    To the Queensbridge crew, you know it's haldftime
    (Right, right, right, right) '92, it's halftime
    (Right, right, right, right) Yo, police, police, man, yo, let's get ghost
    Halftime Writer/s: Galt MacDermot, Gary Byrd, Gerome Ragni, James Rado, Nasir Jones
    Publisher: BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

Comments: 1

  • Nathan from From The Country Of, CanadaHawaiian Sophie was done by Big Jaz (the Jaz) Jay-z was just featured in it.
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