Back When

Warning, Warning... New York, New York The sound, the sound You're about to hear, to hear...

You love to hear the story How it all, how it all, got started, got started You love to hear the story How it all, how it all, got started, got started You love to hear the story How it all, how it all, got started, got started Start it off, start it off, start it off Back when, back when, back when, back when Back when, back when, back when, back when

The ill reminisce and think about the fly days Nothing like them 80s summer NY days Hop on the NB5 days Mopeds, Pro Keds, city split five ways How it all started, fifth floor apartment A jigsaw puzzle aerial view of the projects A kid saw struggle, buried a few of his partners Now I chill in resorts, enjoying massages Check out the oracle bred from city housing Nas, I arise the dead by thousands I remember seeing Shan chilling near his Audi Hollis Ave, Run and them, but I proudly Put a poster up of Shan and Marley, that was art, kid You love to hear the story how it started The bubbly I'm pouring wasn't popped yet Before there was a audience to watch us I assure you, there was a process

You love to hear the story How it all, how it all, got started, got started You love to hear the story How it all, how it all, got started, got started You love to hear the story How it all, how it all, got started, got started Start it off, start it off, start it off Back when, back when, back when, back when Back when, back when, back when, back when

To call them fake today is hate, real niggas extinct Pac left me inside a rap world with niggas that wink At other rappers, undercover niggas spit every way Won't be surprised if all their rides have federal plates Let alone their wardrobes and Studio 4 flow It was real when I appeared, it would've been some jaws broke Nas, my real name, stage name, same thing How could you let these lames claim king? I'm so ashamed, man I light a L for Vernon, for niggas who would burn in Hell For Vernon; 10th Street, 12th Street, Nightmare on Elm Street Pimps creep, delve deep inside the editorials Of the ghetto queens, kings, stories true Who possesses the testicular fortitude To blow away myths that's a hindrance to all of you? You blame your own shortcomings on sex and race The mafia, homosexuals and all the Jews It's hogwash point of views, stereotypical Anti-Semitic like the foul words Gibson spewed And it's pathetic I don't get the credit I deserve That's why I hate doing interviews But I don't sweat it, study long, study raw My man Dion said "Nas over-think the songs he writing" I'm not a wack performer standing near a corny hype man I got the Donism I'm here to enlighten