Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song One Love, artist - Nas. Album song Illmatic: Live from the Kennedy Center with the National Symphony Orchestra, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 19.04.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Mass Appeal
Song language: English
One Love |
what up kid? |
i know shit is rough doing your bid |
when the cops came you shoulda slid to my crib |
fuck it black, no time for looking back it’s done |
plus congratulations you know you got a son |
i heard he looks like you, why don’t your lady write you? |
told her she should visit, that’s when she got hyper |
flip it, talk about he acts too rough |
he didn’t listen he be riffin’while i’m telling him stuff |
i was like yeah, shorty don’t care, she a snake too |
fucking with the niggaz from that fake crew that hate you |
but yo, guess who got shot in the dome-piece? |
jeromes niece, on her way home from joes beaches club |
plus little rob is selling drugs all the time |
hanging out with young thugs that all carry 9's |
at night time there’s more trife than ever |
Whattup with Cormega, did you see 'em, are y’all together? |
if so then hold the fort, now i represent to the fullest |
say whassup to herb, ice and bullet |
I left a half a hundred in your commisary |
You was my nigga when push came to shove |
One what? |
one love |
Verse Two: |
dear born, you’ll be out soon, stay strong |
out in new york the same shit is going on the crack-heads stalking, loud-mouths is talking |
hold, check out the story yesterday when i was walking |
the nigga you shot last year tried to appear like he hurtin’something |
word to mother, i heard him fronting |
and he be pumping on your block |
your man gave him your glock |
and now they run together, what up son, whatever |
since i’m on the streets i’m a put it to a cease |
when i heard you blew a nigga with the for a phone piece |
whylin’on the island but now with |
better chill 'cos them niggaz will put that ass on fire |
last time you wrote you said they tried you in the showers |
i maintain when you come home the corner’s ours |
on the reels, all these crab niggaz know the deal |
when we start the revolution all they probably do is squeal |
but chill, see you on the next v i i gave your mom dukes loot for kicks |
plus flicks |
your brother’s buck whylin’in four maine he wrote me he might beat his case, 'til he come home i play it low key |
so stay civilised, time flies |
though incarcerated your mind |
i hate it when your mum cries |
it kinda wants to make me murder, for real-a |
i’ve even got a mask and gloves to bust slugs |
for one love |
Verse Three: |
sometimes i sit back with a budda sack |
mind’s in another world thinking how can we exist through the facts |
written in school text books, bibles, etcetera |
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 hittin’nails 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 something terrible |
fucking with the corners have a nigga up in belle vue |
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 |
do i roll them two phillies together and the friends we call them oowops |
he said nas, niggaz cold be bustin’off the roof |
so i wear a bullet proof and pack a black tres-deuce |
he inhailed 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 bitches 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 niggaz fool him |
'cos when the pistol blows a shot that’s when a murder be the cool one |
tough luck when niggaz are struck, families fucked up could’ve cought your man, but didn’t look when you bucked up mistakes happen, so take heed never bust up if the crowd catch him solo, make the right man bleed |
shorty’s laugh was cold blooded as he spoke so foul |
only twelve trying to tell me that he liked my style |
then i rose, wiping the blunts ash from my clothes |
then froze only the bolder herb smoke through my nose |
and told my little man that i’m a go cyprose |
there’s some jewels in the skull that he can sell if he chose |
words of wisdom from nas try to rise up above |
keep an eye out for jake shorty what |
one love |