Hip Hop Is Dead
oleh: Nas



[DJ samples]"Hip hop" "hip hop" "is dead""Hip--hip hop" "hip hop" "is dead""Hip--hip hop" "hip--hip hop" "is dead""Hip--hip hop" "hip hop" "hip hop"
[Hook - 2X]If hip hop should die before I wakeI'll put an extended clip inside of my AKRoll to every station, murder the DJRoll to every station, murder the DJ
[sample]Hip hop just died this mornin'And she's dead, she's dead
[Verse 1]Yeah, niggaz smoke, laugh, party, and die in the same cornerGet cash, live fast, body their man's mamaRich ass niggaz is ridin' with three llamasRevenge in their eyes, Hennesy and the ganjaWord to the wise with villain state of mindsGrindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behindGrindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind(Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind)Whenever, if ever, I roll up, it's sown upAny ghetto will tell ya Nas helped grow us upMy face once graced promotional Sony trucksHundred million in billin', I helped build 'em upGave my nigga my right, I could have gave leftSo like my girl Foxy, a nigga went DefSo nigga, who's your top ten?Is it MC Shan? Is it MC Ren?
[Hook - 2X]
[sample]Hip hop just died this mornin'And she's dead, she's dead
[Verse 2]The bigger the cap, the bigger the peelin'Come through, something ill, missin' the ceilin'What influenced my raps? Stick ups and killingsKidnappings, project buildings, drug dealingsCriticize that, why is that?Cuz Nas rap is compared to legitimized crapCuz we love to talk on ass we gettin'Most intellectuals will only half listenSo you can't blame jazz musiciansOr David Stern with his NBA fashion issuesOh I they like me--in my white teeYou can't ice me, we here for life BOn my second marriage, hip hop's my first wifeyAnd for that we not takin' it lightlyIf hip hop should die we die togetherBodies in the morgue lie togetherAll together now
[Hook - 2X]
[sample]Hip hop just died this mornin'Hip hop just died this mornin'Hip hop just died this mornin'And she's dead, she's dead
[crowd chanting "Hip hop!" becomes beat]
[Verse 3]Everybody sound the same, commercialize the gameReminiscin' when it wasn't all businessIf it got where it startedSo we all gather here for the dearly departedHip hopper since a toddlerOne homeboy became a man then a mobsterIf the guys let me get my last swig of VodkaR.I.P., we'll donate your lungs to a rastaWent from turntables to mp3sFrom "Beat Street" to commercials on Mickey D'sFrom gold cables to JacobsFrom plain facials to Botox and face liftsI'm lookin' over my shoulderIt's about eighty niggaz from my hood that showed upAnd they came to show loveSold out concert and the doors are closed shut