Black Republican

[Produced by L.E.S & Wyldfyer]

[Intro: Jay-Z, (Nas) & both]

I know you can feel the magic, baby

Turn the motherfuckin' lights down

Esco, whattup? (Whattup, homie?)

I mean, it's what you expected, ain't it? (Hahaha)

Let's go... uhh, uh, uhh, uh, uhh, uh

Turn the music up in the headphones

Uh, yeah, that's perfect (Yeah, right, right)

Uhh, uh, you gotta take ya time, make a nigga wait on this muh'fucka (Hahaha!)

Make niggas mad and shit like...

Niggas usually just start rappin' after four bars, "Nigga, go in!"

Just start dancin' in this muh'fucka

Yeah, (Yeah...) we just come outta nowhere

[Chorus: Jay-Z, (Nas)]

I feel like a Black Republican, money I got comin' in

Can't turn my back on the hood, I got love for them

Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in him (Nah)

Probably end up back in the hood, like, "Fuck it then"

[Verse 1: Jay-Z, (Nas)]

Huddlin' over the oven, we was like brothers then (What?)

Though you was nothin' other than a son of my mother's friend

We had covenant, who would've thought the love would end?

Like Ice Cold's album (Uhh), "all good things..."

Never thought we'd sing the same song that all hoods sang

Thought it was all woodgrain, all good brain

We wouldn't bicker like the other fools, talk good game

Never imagine all the disaster that one good reign could bring

Should blame–the game, and I could

It's kill or be killed, how could I refrain?

And forever be in debt, and that's never a good thing

So the pressure for success can put a good strain

On a friend you call best, and yes, it could bring

Out the worst in every person, even the good and sane

Although, we rehearsed it, it just ain't the same

When you put in the game at age sixteen

Then you mix things, like cars, jewelry, and Miss Thing

Jealousy, ego, and pride, and this brings

It all to a head like a coin – cha-ching

The root of evil strikes again, this could sting

Now the team got beef, between the Post and the Point

This puts the ring in jeopardy, indefinitely

[Chorus: Jay-Z & Nas]

I feel like a black republican, money I got comin' in

Can't turn my back on the hood, I got love for them (Uhh, uhh)

Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in him (Nah)

Probably end up back in the hood (Uh), I'm like, "Fuck it then"

I feel like a black militant takin' over the government

Can't turn my back on the hood, too much love for them (Nah)

Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in him

Probably end up back in the hood, I'm like, "Fuck it then"

[Verse 2: Nas, (Jay-Z)]

I'm back in the hood, they like, "Hey, Nas" (Uh)

Blowin' on purp, reflectin' on they lives (Uh)

Couple of fat cats, couple of A.I.'s

Dreamin' of fly shit instead of them gray skies

Gray 5s, haters wishin' our reign dies

Pitch, sling pies, and niggas they sing, "Why"? (Uhh)

Guess they ain't strong enough to handle their jail time

Weak minds keep trying, follow the street signs

I'm standing on the roof of my building

I'm feelin' the whirlwind of beef, I inhale it

Just like an acrobat, ready to hurl myself through the hoops of fire

Sippin' 80 proof, bulletproof under my attire

Could it be the forces of darkness

Against hood angels of good that form street politics?

Makes a sweet honest kid turn illegal for commerce (Uhh)

To get his feet out of them Converse, that's my word

[Chorus: Jay-Z & Nas]

I feel like a Black Republican, money keep comin' in

Can't turn my back on the hood, I got love for them (Uhh, uhh)

Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in him (Nah)

Probably end up back in the hood (Uhh), ah, "Fuck it then"

I feel like a black militant, takin' over the government

Can't turn my back on the hood, too much love for them (I got love for them)

Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in him

Probably end up back in the hood, I'm like, "Fuck it then"