Yo, all I need is one mic, one beat, one stage One nigga front, my face on the front page Only if I had one gun, one girl and one crib One god to show me how to do things his son did Pure, like a cup of virgin blood; mixed with 151, one sip'll make a nigga flip Writin names on my hollow tips, plottin shit Mad violence who I'm gon' body, this hood politics Ackowledge it, leave bodies chopped in garbages Seeds watch us, grow up and try to follow us Police watch us, roll up and try knockin us One knee I ducked, could it be my time is up But my luck, I got up, the cop shot again Bus stop glass bursts, a fiend drops his heineken Richochetin between the spots that I'm hidin in Blackin out as I shoot back, fuck gettin hit! This is my hood I'ma rep, to the death of it 'Til everybody come home, little niggaz is grown Hoodrats, don't abortion your womb, we need more warriors soon Sip from the star sun and the moon In this life of police chases street sweepers and coppers Stick-up kids with no conscience, leavin victims with doctors If you really think you ready to die, with nines out This is what nas is bout, nigga the time is now!
Yo, all I need is one mic... All I need is one mic, that's all I need All I need is one mic, all I need niggaz All I need is one mic, yeah
All I need is one blunt, one page, and one pen One prayer, tell god forgive for one sin Matter fact maybe more than one, look back At all the hatred against me, fuck alla them Jesus died at age 33, there's thirty-three shots From twin glocks there's sixteen apiece, that's thirty-two Which means, one of my guns was holdin 17 Twenty-seven hit your crew, six went into you Everybody gotta die sometime; hope your funeral Never gets shot up, bullets tear through the innocent Nothin is fair, niggaz roll up, shootin from wheelchairs My heart is racin, tastin revenge in the air I let the shit slide for too many years, too many times Now I'm strapped with a couple of macs, too many nines If y'all niggaz really wit me get busy load up the semis Do more than just hold it explode the clip until you empty There's nothin in our way - they bust, we bust, they rust, we rust Led flyin, feel it? I feel it in my gut That we take these bitches to war, lie 'em down Cause we stronger now my nigga the time is now!!
All I need is one mic, that's all I need, that's all I need All I need is one mic, there's nuttin else in the world All I need is one mic, that's all a nigga need to do his thing why'know All I need is one mic
All I need is one life, one try, one breath I'm one man What I stand for speaks for itself, they don't understand Or want to see me on top, too egotistical Talkin all that slick shit, the same way these bitches do Wonder what my secrets is, niggaz'll move on you Only if they know, what your weakness is I have none Too late to grab guns I'm blastin cause I'm a cool nigga Thought I wouldn't have that ass done? fooled you niggaz What you call a infinite brawl, eternal souls clashin War gets deep, some beef is everlastin Complete with thick scars, brothers knifin each other Up in prison yards, drama, where does it start? You know the block was ill as a youngster Every night it was like a, cop would get killed body found in the dumpster For real a hustler, purchased my range, niggaz throwin dirt on my name Jealous cause fiends got they work and complain Bitches left me cause they thought I was finished Shoulda knew she wasn't true she came to me when her man caught a sentence Diamonds are blindin, I never make the same mistakes Movin with a change of pace, lighter load, see now the king is straight Swellin my melon cause none of these niggaz real Heard he was, tellin police, how can a kingpin squeal? This is crazy, I'm on the right track I'm finally found You need some soul searchin, the time is now
All I need is one mic, yeah, yeah All I need is one mic, that's all I ever needed in this world, fuck cash All I need is one mic, fuck the cars, the jewelry All I need is one mic, to spread my voice to the whole world
Writer/s: Nasir Jones, Chucky Thompson
Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind
"Friends In Low Places" by Garth Brooks was written by two Nashville songwriters after a meal in a local restaurant. One of them forgot his money, but said not to worry, "I have friends in low places. I know the cook."