http://s13.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=37AAC0AEEAA46A8CDEBDE256ED375A45

get it now I might put a an easir link for those with 56 a lil while later. In meanwhile sumone please write lyrics

also new nas interview
http://home.comcast.net/~naasir2005/Nas106KmelInterview.mp3

here are lyrics to two tracks

Streets Disciple

You was born in the Eighties, pops drove a Mercedes
Did a bid, coming home to some grown ass kid
Crack baby turning young thug, description might fit you
Look around it might hit you, no joke, don’t want to pistol fight wit you
Shit comes around faster than you think,
Blood and white chalk make pink, so what’s that make you?
Become a creature of habitat,
The average cat won’t see where it’s at, or where it’s going
The hood waits for no-one,
I've been through it from Ewing’s to Buicks
To body viewings, car chases to court cases
The fly vacations from wanting it all
To being an object of your admiration, imagination
Is what they lack, It stops niggas from getting stacks
Feeling trapped on the block with loose cracks
Wisdom is vital, for the survival, of the streets disciple

Moon struck, stuck slow as molasses in my actions
That’s complements of a fast spliff in the night light
In my fight jacket adrenaline heighten, mimicking Tyson
After watching him cut-up razor ruddick, in the gutter
Which was once ghetto prophecy is now ghetto scripture
Looking back at it, Blow-jobs from pretty crack addicts
Older guys wanting no static, told some little niggas they can have it
Coke baggin and toe taggin, they took Will
Let me describe him, a live one
I think he was a true God Son, Our Jesus with Filas
His ear was upon them sounds too
He hear something not to his liking, and say,” Son they biting you"
He never got to see my debut, wild mannered but wild with them hammers
Niggas fronting couldn’t stand it, took him off the planet
Left us in "92", with the philosophy of what arms do
A true streets disciple


Plug the mics up I'm ready to rock
Now I can reminisce in the measuring pots of Pyrex
Cook in the kitchen, Captain Hook to these infants
It’s like my ghost is still on the benches,
Surrounded by villains and henchmen, was a killa convention
1991 son, gold fronts in the facial, gun but by the navel
The Cipher would blaze if you laced it with embalming fluid
Rhyming to music, all this time, fightin bout how Kane and Rakim would do it
Seemed impossible to us, that we could ever leave from the block
Where the world was forever freezing,
Hell if I let em shovel me son, in the cell again
Fuck these devil policemen, plush leathers I need them
Risking my freedom, burners in bubble coats
Fuck a sermon from the neighborhood pope
He sexing hoes, old fart, he bustin worms when he stroke
Multi-colored Pelle Pelle's, young stretch marked bellies
Babies born in the cycle, future disciples





"Nazareth savage"

I had bad chicks that blow cum bubbles like bubble gum
Plus they ass lick, summer house be sippin rum
Laying lazy in the recliner, couple days
In my ash tray, smoke signals from the haze
I stick my finger through it,
The ring of smoke broken symbolize weak guys
Pop the strong link off, the infustructure cave-in, amazin
I aint have to read the art of war to slay men
Serve niggas, bird niggas speaking reckless
When they momma love the kid records i've made you gutless
You don’t know struggle throw couple shells at you, hell grabs you
Nail stabs the hand of the Nazarene
I carried the cross to help you afford that plasma screen
Gave you chumps a path to walk
Hold my hand ima guide you like an O.G. but don’t talk
Don’t get it confused, cuz none of yall can fit in my shoes
Yall made of chemicals, artificial acids, God will forgive you bastards
Only if yall repent to the Nazareth Savage


I squeeze nipples like pimples to get the puss, get it
Former crew swallow 40 cal bullets after dinners finished
Wash it down with a shot of tequila
Pocket full of sqrilla, can’t come close ta
Francis Coppola, Sampson no Delilah
You pint size of mice eyes
With the gladiator tattoos on it, you scared to look to long at
Sit on a Dons lap, tell you a story shorty
Spicy like Lories, Chicken heads an orgies
Criminals that draw heat in they late forties
Drug habits, love grabbin kids up like yours
Sending you a picture of em in they drawers with black eyes
Savage guys, you hire magnum PI’s, to bag up my guys
Said you was a thug what a good disguise
Trying to protect your cabbage
You running from the Nazareth savage

Sons back with flows they say mines is very scary
Smell fear like a canine that finds buried babies
And all of yall wear that same aroma
How to blow on your 8Th LP I’ll show ya
You wack nigga face it
In the history of the game you have no placement
Liquor and weed just massacred they mind, or the celebrity or they couldn’t change with time
So now they run they mouth
But when the sun goes south, them guns come out
My cavalry would’ve been threw ten in your skin
Casualty you don’t wanna be, don’t want it with me
Straight Savage

http://urban-gear.com/MEGATON_SUCKS_D_CK/Nas-Streets_Disciple-2CD-ADVANCE-2004-ESC/

for the 56 strugglers...

I had the first 12 tracks couldn't get my hands on the others. Good looking out. So far I'm really feeling the first 8-9 tracks. :)

I wrote out the lyrics to "Suicide Bounce" - it's very rough and I know there are errors. But anyway:

"Suicide Bounce"

Sittin' up drunk, shuffeling thoughts
Got paper but I'm lost
Losing focus, what a nigga still hustling for?
My seed is straight, the family is settled
I know time get the man in trouble
When wife be touring my life get boring
Start to remember all types of torment
The devils calling, but I dont answer
Mom passed with cancer
Leaving behind two granddaughters, two grandsons
Two nines, next to me in the Phantom
Who lying, big screen documentaries of Eades Ameen
Gotta, try and stay away from creeps
With they bullshit try to pull me back to the streets
War stories, funerals where Feds be laying
From a dreadful slaying
Body viewings at the wake, nigga sit stiff in his Ferarri
No casket, with his eyelids still open, it's kinda spooky
Iceman, watch on, the suit Gucci
I'm above the stand of producers Marceles and Bradford
Thinking you too rich, they wanna gun ya
Kidnap ya cause of they hunger
But you fucking with hunters
Camouflage and black hoods dump clips
Cause real niggas die over dumb shit
Camouflage and black hoods dump clips
Cause real niggas die over dumb shit

(Hook by: Busta Rhymes)

To your, power structure, Nas is dangerous
Ya'll the antithesis, the opposite
Twitching shit, all up in your body language
Me loving your bitch cause she leans over to look closer
Told you ya'll sloppy gangstas, saying
Nas is this and Nas is that
Your eyes go front your eyes go back
Surprised the mack - the same place ya'll be at
It's obvious you don't know how I'll react
Like, I don't know where the party is at
Your foaming at the mouth losing breath
Like a cardiac arrest but I aint impressed
Cause the fact is, ya'll don't really want it
Two to the head, four to the stomach
Call more security cause I cometh
Anywhere you at you scary cats
If you dare squeeze back
Nas shall reign a thousand times harder than when I first came
Ya'll not relentless, ya'll dumb
And ya'll just forgot about the consequences
Not a jail sentence
But see, the nigga you feed, who kick it the dude, that kick it to me
We possess, the recipes for death
That jealousy destroys to feed the dog first
Watch out for Salmonella Poisoning
I know a kid who throws shit in your food
And say, that's the you kill a man to avoid the shooting
Hey

(Hook by: Busta Rhymes)

Good job on the lyrics. I need someone to write out one of the following.
American Way
Coon picnic
War
Reason

Good job on the lyrics. I need someone to write out one of the following.
American Way
Coon picnic
War
Reason

Maybe I'll write Reason lyics later on.