1. A lyricist, not a rapper.
2. Nas has the ability to tell stories by poetic rap, or lyrics.
3. One of the greatest of our time.
2. Nas has the ability to tell stories by poetic rap, or lyrics.
3. One of the greatest of our time.
"Now wait a sec, give me time to explain,
Women and fast cars and diamond rings Can poison a rap star," - Nasir Jones (AKA NaS)
Women and fast cars and diamond rings Can poison a rap star," - Nasir Jones (AKA NaS)
by F-Type May 4, 2004
Nasir Bin Olu Dara Jones (Sep.1973- ?)
Hip-hop's most revered lyricist, known for his smooth delivery and "oh so real" lyrics. Set the foundation for 90's rap. Nas, the streets salute you!
Hip-hop's most revered lyricist, known for his smooth delivery and "oh so real" lyrics. Set the foundation for 90's rap. Nas, the streets salute you!
by Lyric Allanis March 26, 2004
Nasty Nas, one of the most popular rappers of all time, and if not the best. The best lyricist, street poet, beats and erthin. Jay-Z and Nas used to get down back in the days of Illmatic. But then Jay-Z became all celebritized and did that Snake shit.
Whether it be Illmatic, It was Written, I am, Nastraduamus, Stillmatic, The Lost Tapes, Or Gods Son, Nas has it all.
Whether it be Illmatic, It was Written, I am, Nastraduamus, Stillmatic, The Lost Tapes, Or Gods Son, Nas has it all.
jesus died at age 33, thats 32 shots from twin glocks at 16 a peice thats 32 which means, 1 of my guns was holdin 17, 27 hit yo crew, 6 went into you.
by Will January 18, 2004
Nasir Jones, otherwise known as Nas or Nasty Nas, is the best lyricist of all-time in the rap game, easily the best rapper alive, and maybe the best all-time. From Queensbridge, New York, he is one of the realest rappers all-time. He is hugely respected by anyone who knows shit about rap. His first album, 'Illmatic', (1994) is widely considered as one of the best rap albums of all-time, if not THE best. His second album, 'It Was Written' (1996) more or less equaled the genius of Illmatic. Nas shit on Jay-Z in their beef after the death of legend Biggie Smalls, and is the king of NYC. Nas was the foundation for the lyrical rap of the '90s and although he is the realest rapper and is connected to the underground movement, is widely known even in the mainstream.
Y'all niggas deal with emotions like bitches
What's sad is I love you 'cause you're my brother
You traded your soul for riches
My child, I've watched you grow up to be famous
And now I smile like a proud dad, watchin his only son that made it
You seem to be only concerned with dissin women
Were you abused as a child, scared to smile, they called you ugly?
Well life is hard, hug me, don't reject me
Or make records to disrespect me, blatent or indirectly
In '88 you was gettin chased through your buildin
Callin my crib and I ain't even give you my numbers
All I did was gave you a style for you to run with
-Nas, 'Ether'
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!!
-Nas, One Mic
There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked
So hold your stash until the coke price drop
I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock
And if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo
You gotta slide on a vacation
Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin
It drops deep as it does in my breath
I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined
I think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind
-Nas, NY State of Mind
What's sad is I love you 'cause you're my brother
You traded your soul for riches
My child, I've watched you grow up to be famous
And now I smile like a proud dad, watchin his only son that made it
You seem to be only concerned with dissin women
Were you abused as a child, scared to smile, they called you ugly?
Well life is hard, hug me, don't reject me
Or make records to disrespect me, blatent or indirectly
In '88 you was gettin chased through your buildin
Callin my crib and I ain't even give you my numbers
All I did was gave you a style for you to run with
-Nas, 'Ether'
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!!
-Nas, One Mic
There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked
So hold your stash until the coke price drop
I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock
And if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo
You gotta slide on a vacation
Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin
It drops deep as it does in my breath
I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined
I think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind
-Nas, NY State of Mind
by GeniusBOYYY March 22, 2009
One of the best to ever touch the mic, he's one of the few lyricists left alive. His first album "Illmatic" is a fucking classic, flawless. Born and raised in the the United States largest public housing projects "Queensbridge".
by AC March 21, 2005
"I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death"
"Life's a bitch, but God forbid the bitch divorce me"
"Switched my motto, instead of saying fuck tommorow
"That buck that bought a bottle could have struck the lotto"
"They thought I'd make another Illmatic,
but it's always forward I'm moving
never backward stupid here's another classic" -
Nas
"Life's a bitch, but God forbid the bitch divorce me"
"Switched my motto, instead of saying fuck tommorow
"That buck that bought a bottle could have struck the lotto"
"They thought I'd make another Illmatic,
but it's always forward I'm moving
never backward stupid here's another classic" -
Nas
by scj July 24, 2003
Nas-
I'm capable of anything, my imagination can give me wings
To fly like doves over the streets watchin' many things
Kids walkin' home from school on drug block missionaries
Pass out papers that read: Love God
See faces, cases, judges, juries, masons, lawyers and cops
I watch because every thugs face is my mirror
But this was one in particular
This kid he was the vintage stick em up pro
16 years old, did his jail sentence, nowhere to go
Every mornin calls his comrad to come and get him to smoke
He insane, already gone mad
Blames himself for his setbacks
Dangerous street corners where his sets at
Slang from dust to dawn, detectives act like they maniacs
Chasin' him, his ass was flarin'
Smokin' like a chimney, on really, of course he not carin'
He need a place to go to keep his mind expandin'
I give him a helpin' hand, bring him out to Thugz Mansion
I'm capable of anything, my imagination can give me wings
To fly like doves over the streets watchin' many things
Kids walkin' home from school on drug block missionaries
Pass out papers that read: Love God
See faces, cases, judges, juries, masons, lawyers and cops
I watch because every thugs face is my mirror
But this was one in particular
This kid he was the vintage stick em up pro
16 years old, did his jail sentence, nowhere to go
Every mornin calls his comrad to come and get him to smoke
He insane, already gone mad
Blames himself for his setbacks
Dangerous street corners where his sets at
Slang from dust to dawn, detectives act like they maniacs
Chasin' him, his ass was flarin'
Smokin' like a chimney, on really, of course he not carin'
He need a place to go to keep his mind expandin'
I give him a helpin' hand, bring him out to Thugz Mansion
by Tim TrEz September 17, 2005