| Artist/Band: 
Nas Lyrics for Song: Thief's Theme
 Lyrics for Album: Greatest Hits [2007]
 
 
 
 20636>[Intro]
 
 One, two
 
 Check, one, two
 
 One, two, who got more style, the son do
 
 {*rewind*}
 
 One, two
 
 Check, one, two
 
 One, two, who got more style, the son do
 
 Check, one, two
 
 
 
 [Verse 1]
 
 Yo I'm hot like 95 Fahrenheit
 
 On a summer night, tight spot where bodies rot
 
 Rats drink from water drops, in the streets niggaz
 
 Little kids scared cops, wit red dots
 
 Philosophical gangsta, where violent priors
 
 Goin back like black and white TV's wit pliers
 
 Leanin on broke down cars, wit flat tires
 
 Flash iron, or anybody tryin on the blocks I'm supplyin on
 
 Mighty call, my peeps, tie ballons up
 
 And swallow 'em and the penal got goons, lots of 'em
 
 Cops see them and run, don't want no drama
 
 Certain parts of the streets, the beast don't want a part of
 
 Mortar, hood haunted like the Dakota
 
 Where John Lennon was shot up, but he sang for peace
 
 He begged for freedom, hanged wit wild Jamicians
 
 From Kingston, who drink Irish Moss
 
 Listenin to Peter Winston, Machintosh
 
 Lightning hits the top of the church steeple
 
 When I'm writin, semi-automatic no hyphen
 
 It's frightening.... {*scratches*}
 
 
 
 [Chorus]
 
 The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
 
 Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
 
 The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
 
 Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
 
 The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
 
 Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
 
 The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
 
 Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
 
 
 
 [Verse 2]
 
 I take summers off, cause I love winter beef
 
 Started '87, wit the shotty in the sheet
 
 Three-quarter length beige, dressed to kill
 
 Bust a shell at the ground, pellets hit the crowd
 
 Nobody like a snitch, everybody shut they mouth
 
 Rule which car heart, gun powder stains
 
 Smellin like trees, set some mill on the brain
 
 Skeemin on ya girls, bamboozled on ya chain
 
 Got ill up on the train, twistin off a cap
 
 Of a English in my vain, might of pushed you on the tracks
 
 Death crack fiends, who can't speak, scream noises
 
 Cause you bought a drummer sooked, from one of my boys, it's
 
 .... Just another day in the hood
 
 And I'm, wit some wild brothers, up to no good
 
 We saw the movies, like Tony Montana, and 'em
 
 But our style was let them piled in, we robbin 'em
 
 Money dudes, make 'em come up out they shoes
 
 Run they jewels, word is bond, where my man Nino goin
 
 And I had to make a song, speakin on my old life
 
 For the thief's who come out at night
 
 
 
 [Chorus]
 
 
 
 [Outro]
 
 One, two
 
 Check, one, two {*echoes*}
 
 One, two
 
 Check, one, two
 
 One, two, who got more style, the son do {*echoes*}
 
 {*explosion*}
 
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