| Artist/Band: 
Nas Lyrics for Song: A Message to the Feds, Sincerely, We the People
 Lyrics for Album: Street's Disciple [2004]
 
 
 
 6064>Get ready get prepared
 
 This is Prophecy, God is with us
 
 
 
 I walk the block like whatever god, my message to y'all feds
 
 Who desperate to arrest us young, benevolent hard heads
 
 Abrochrombie and Finch rockin', wrist glistenin' marksman
 
 Hitchcock of Hip-Hop since Big Pop departed
 
 The project logic is still salute the dead, glocks spit
 
 Pour some juice out for those in Manchester, View Mount
 
 Otis Ville, Newasberg, Fort Dicks, Fort Worth, Oakdale
 
 Every fed jail where all my dawgs lurk war hurts much to gain
 
 
 
 Till the day we all say may your pain be champagne
 
 Then we all blaze away at our enemies, may they die easily
 
 Long as they perish forevers what freedom means to me
 
 Blowin' greenery, growing eager to see evil things
 
 Thrown away, zonin' gray, GT, Diesel jeans airs and chucks
 
 Solitaires, stones with the rarest cuts on some pretty tone shit
 
 Haircut looks airbrushed and they're aware of us though
 
 And we don't give a flyin' 747 fuck though stayin' on my hustle
 
 
 
 A message to those who trapped us up
 
 From Federal guys who backed them up
 
 We never will die, we black and tough
 
 Lead in your eye, we strapped to bust
 
 Half of us been locked up inside the beast
 
 Look at the time we see Brooklyn to Compton streets
 
 Queens, even the Congo needs dreams
 
 Our bullets and triggers our enemies pullin'
 
 On innocent women and children
 
 
 
 It wasn't no ghetto killers who mixed up the coke
 
 And put guns in our buildings but I'm not gon' cry
 
 And I'm not gon' just stand and watch you die
 
 I'ma pass you a .9, I'ma grab your hand come on let's ride
 
 A message to those who killed the king, who murdered the Christ
 
 The same regime, what God has built you never can break
 
 What God has loved you never can hate, man makes rules and laws
 
 You just a ruthless dog, your kennel is waiting
 
 You devils will run back into the caves you came from
 
 Whenever that day comes, forty-acres, plantations, see every race won
 
 Sincerely yours, Street's Disciple, revelations
 
 6064>
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