Sometimes I sit back with a Buddha sack
Mind's in another world thinking how can we exist through the facts
Written in school text books, bibles, et cetera
Fuck a school lecture, the lies get me vexed-er
So I be ghost from my projects
I take my pen and pad for the week
And hitting L's while I'm sleeping
A two day stay, you may say I need the time alone
To relax my dome, no phone, left the 9 at home
You see the streets have me stressed somethin terrible
Fucking with the corners have a nigga up in Belleville
Or h.d.m., hit with numbers from 8 to 10
A future in a maximum state pen is grim
So I comes back home, nobody's helping shorty doo-wop
Rollin two Phillies together in the Bridge we called 'em oowops
He said, "Nas, niggas could be bustin' off the roof
So I wear a bullet proof and pack a black tres-deuce"
He inhaled so deep, shut his eyes like he was sleep
Started coughing when I peeked to watch me speak
I sat back like the mack, my army suit was black
We was chillin' on these benches where he pumped his loose cracks
I took an l when he passed it, this little bastard
Keeps me blasted he starts talking mad shit
I had to school him, told him don't let niggas fool him
'cos when the pistol blows that's when a murder be the cool one
One love
-NAS
