Lirik Lagu Disciple - Nas
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[Intro][Nas] "Two-thousand-four, yeah. L, whattup?"[L.E.S.] "Prophesy!"[Nas] "Yeah."[L.E.S.] "Prophesy baby!"
[Chorus: Nas & L.E.S.]Disciple, Disciple (What?!) Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (Let's go!)
[Verse 1: Nas]Word to mama, any lineup of rhymersCould bring any drama, anytime, the city's mineNas Is Like, Love Undying, Money's My BitchIn Thugz Mansion, thugs dancin' around the fly shitPharaoh garment's Prada, Egyptian camelback-ridersPyramid architects, Perignon bottles, money, jewelry want me to comeGet me, hit me but don't miss me, you historyLead flowin' around like a Frisbee, Italian dons from Sicily kiss meThis ain't 50, this ain't Jigga, this ain't Diddy, this ain't PrettyPain, power, pussy and pistols, lyrically no one, hold none near me, hear meKids cheer me like The Count of Monte-CristoSteady poundin' soundin' like G without the lisp thoughMy big bro told me plain and simple, "Nas do not look back"Watch where you took rap, no bookbags and trucker hatsJust army jacks and diamonds that's flashin'What the fuck is that, freestyle
[Chorus: Nas & L.E.S.]Disciple, Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (Esco!)
[Verse 2: Nas]Like Paul, Michael and Matthew, Peter, James and AndrewPhillip, Simon and Judas -- I'm disciple of musicStreet beats is the main thing minus the traitorAnd I'm not a dictator, I'm the righteous invitin' you hatersInside the life of the greatest, it'll take you through something realGet a smack in your face, 'cause I hurt up, trauma-tize, llamaBust shells, destroy yet try'ta prevent violenceIf I present iron somebody dyin', don't even worry 'bout itThen dress warm for the cemetery climateWhen I speak I need cemetery silence, terrorSee me, gold Hummers, Lamborghinis, man who stole the summerHand straight gleamin', if I don't know you toe-tag youDrag you through the cement, fo-fo maggieBody parts in my man's Maserati car, then party hard in MadagascarWhile rigor mortis'll grab ya, him retarded, I'm pass thatGloves on, where the mask at? Too many love songsAll the thugs gone, what happened? Where's the passion?Rappers battlin' non-rappers, carryin' on backwardsLaughin' sayin' Nas thinks he's Farrakhan preachin' blacknessHell yeah, awareness is my aliasWord to the 'Braveheart' written on my bare chestThe realest, HERE IT IS!
[Chorus: Nas & L.E.S.]Disciple, Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (Street's!)Disciple (Street's!)Disciple (Esco!)
[Chorus: Nas & L.E.S.]Disciple, Disciple (What?!) Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (Let's go!)
[Verse 1: Nas]Word to mama, any lineup of rhymersCould bring any drama, anytime, the city's mineNas Is Like, Love Undying, Money's My BitchIn Thugz Mansion, thugs dancin' around the fly shitPharaoh garment's Prada, Egyptian camelback-ridersPyramid architects, Perignon bottles, money, jewelry want me to comeGet me, hit me but don't miss me, you historyLead flowin' around like a Frisbee, Italian dons from Sicily kiss meThis ain't 50, this ain't Jigga, this ain't Diddy, this ain't PrettyPain, power, pussy and pistols, lyrically no one, hold none near me, hear meKids cheer me like The Count of Monte-CristoSteady poundin' soundin' like G without the lisp thoughMy big bro told me plain and simple, "Nas do not look back"Watch where you took rap, no bookbags and trucker hatsJust army jacks and diamonds that's flashin'What the fuck is that, freestyle
[Chorus: Nas & L.E.S.]Disciple, Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (Esco!)
[Verse 2: Nas]Like Paul, Michael and Matthew, Peter, James and AndrewPhillip, Simon and Judas -- I'm disciple of musicStreet beats is the main thing minus the traitorAnd I'm not a dictator, I'm the righteous invitin' you hatersInside the life of the greatest, it'll take you through something realGet a smack in your face, 'cause I hurt up, trauma-tize, llamaBust shells, destroy yet try'ta prevent violenceIf I present iron somebody dyin', don't even worry 'bout itThen dress warm for the cemetery climateWhen I speak I need cemetery silence, terrorSee me, gold Hummers, Lamborghinis, man who stole the summerHand straight gleamin', if I don't know you toe-tag youDrag you through the cement, fo-fo maggieBody parts in my man's Maserati car, then party hard in MadagascarWhile rigor mortis'll grab ya, him retarded, I'm pass thatGloves on, where the mask at? Too many love songsAll the thugs gone, what happened? Where's the passion?Rappers battlin' non-rappers, carryin' on backwardsLaughin' sayin' Nas thinks he's Farrakhan preachin' blacknessHell yeah, awareness is my aliasWord to the 'Braveheart' written on my bare chestThe realest, HERE IT IS!
[Chorus: Nas & L.E.S.]Disciple, Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (STREET'S!)Disciple (Street's!)Disciple (Street's!)Disciple (Esco!)
