true dialect - nas lyrics
(verse)
1 a.m., i’m at my best
twistin’ trees at my rest
melt with hash, sippin’ heiny, hittin’ states in a g.s
with my grimeys n*ggas blowin’ up throughout the 90s
stayin’ lit with the chocolate armoretta plus a dime piece
takin’ gortex steps, ’cause sh*t gets hot
pistols pop, some you hear, some you know when you drop
twisting off the bottle top, contemplate fate then plot
while n*ggas walk around with all they got in one knot
for real, i build a mini*israel, rougher the fish scale
like the red sea, deep and deadly, though i’m a sit still
imagine being gassed up, your time passed up
thinking you lord sipping wine out of brass cup your last supper’s
served, without grace son about face
i hung a nun in ’91 to captivate the rap race
you ain’t from the pros or the ‘jects, the nines or the techs
chapter one, today’s math, ‘true dialect’
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