Y'all know what it is
The streets named me Illmatic
For that I'm still at it
Can't hate us
Fellas

Vice behind me on the intersection
Sex and drugs, my anthology on perfection
Dress superb, admired by conspirers
Who wanna try me
But ain't high enough to four-five me up
Child of the eighties, y'all niggas is lazy
Complain about labour pains
Nigga show me the baby
And my nigga Game
Light another L, pass the bottle
Pro-black
I don't take cotton out of aspirin bottles
Yeah, I learnt my lessons
And heard y'all snitchin'
Witnessin' you rockin' [?] with Nas
Confirmed my suspicion
Green fatigues on, My niggas I bleed for 'em
I can show 'em the water
But can't make 'em drink it
And I can show 'em my fortunes
But can't force 'em to think rich,
And still I don't abort 'em
When and if they sink quick
Ignore the ignorance
I rep the brilliance of Queensbridge
And pray to fans, let Murder Inc. live
(8 Bars... kind of)

I don't talk about my guns, nigga I just blaze

'Pac is watchin', Big is listenin'
While Pun talkin' to us, Jam Jay still spinnin'
To every nigga listenin'
I was supposed to be amongst kings
My Mom shouted out at my Christening
And while you still listenin'
Shyne locked in a man hole
Cam got shot inside his lambo'
Sample, life is a gamble
15 years old red rag around my hand
My sisters used to laugh and call me 'Rambo'
Seen Eazy's legacy melt away like a candle
I rekindled the flame
Dre created The Game
nigga with an attitude from the cloth I came
Young homie ate his way up
From the bottom of the food chain
Keep the crown, clown
I rock an La Dodger Fitted
I showed my ass at Summer Jam
But New York was down with it
Now the ball's in my court
Never dribble out of bounds with it
Behind the back to Nas
He alley oop to Jigga, Nigga
(8 Bars)
Me and nasty puffin', this a classic, trust me
How you gon' pass the dutchie
To them niggas that don't love me
I'm talkin' niggas
That never wanted to see me on top
Same niggas that never wanted to see
The Doctor's Advocate drop, flop, I think not
I'll fuck you rap niggas like virgins
Dre took my training wheels off his curtains
I don't need no encore, no claps, no cheers
The Game ain't over
This the beginning of my career
The ending of yours, the endin of his
Like Flavor Flav's clock
I'm back to handle my biz
N*gga, it's Game Time
That was Dre's favorite line
Back when proof was in the booth
And I recited his lines
And I still think
About my nigga from time to time
Make me wanna call 50
And let him know what's on my mind
But I just hold back
Cuz we ain't beefin like that
He aint Big, and I ain't Pac
And we just eatin off rap
One love
(8 Bars)
I'll do Marsha's bit if you want
But it seems kinda pointless
I thought Nas was on point with his multis
The cotton line is a bit old though