[Intro: Rising Son]
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Yo
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Ha, Ha, Ha
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DPP
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Check, one two, one two
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Who got more style than Son do?
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None do (that's official)
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Yeah, this is history right here (history)
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Yo, Nas, Rising Son
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Queensbridge to London
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Let's go..
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[Verse One: Rising Son]
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Yo, Yo
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This is the Thief's Theme
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For the underground criminal street teams
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Street dream chasing young hungry thugs that seek cream
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Crack fiends and hatch schemes, knife-point robbery
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Broad day blindeys, night-time thuggery
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Sun down shinanigins, move without shadow...
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...like ninjas, cat burglars, no fiasco
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No commotion, make moves like locomotion
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Crack-sport ambush, get the man bringing the coke in
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Warehouse crime rate, mans throw they vans up
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Bang job, "Freeze, everybody put your hands up"
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Cash is nightmare, gun in ya faceplate
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"It's not even ya money, don't make me put one in ya face, mate"
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Thieves running this place, world trade, eight fare
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Slave rift flashbacks; Bush killer, hate Blair!
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Wish Mars was a mile away, cos I would escape there
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On a Skyway railroad, to stick you from my tray fair, bitch...
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Yeah, you know like when you kill somebody in Street Fighter
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Uah, uah, uah, uah [fades]
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[Re-Intro: Nas]
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One, two
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Check, one, two
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One, two, who got more style, the son do
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[rewind]
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One, two
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Check, one, two
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One, two, who got more style, the son do
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Check, one, two
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[Verse 2: Nas]
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Yo I'm hot like 95 Fahrenheit
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On a summer night, tight spot where bodies rot
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Rats drink from water drops, in the streets niggaz
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Little kids scared cops, wit red dots
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Philosophical gangsta, wit violent priors
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Goin back like black and white TV's wit pliers
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Leanin on broke down cars, wit flat tires
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Flash iron, anybody tryin on, the blocks I'm supplyin on
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Madicon, my peeps, tie ballons up
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And swallow 'em and the P now got goons, lots of 'em
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Cops see them and run, don't want no drama
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Certain parts of the streets, the beast don't want a part of
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Martyr, hood haunted like the Dakota
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Where John Lennon was shot up, but he sang for peace
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He begged for freedom, hanged wit wild Jamicians
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From Kingston, who drink Irish Malts
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Listenin to Peter Winston, Machintosh
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Lightning hits the top of the church steeple
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When I'm writin, semi-automatic no hyphen
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It's frightening.... {*scratches*}
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[Chorus]
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The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
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Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
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The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
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Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
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The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
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Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
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The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
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Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
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[Verse 3: Nas]
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I take summers off, cause I love winter beef
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Started '87, wit the shotty in the sheep
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Three-quarter length beige, dressed to kill
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Bust a shell at the ground, pellets hit the crowd
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Nobody like a snitch, everybody shut they mouth
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Woolrich, Carhart, gun powder stains
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Smellin like trees, sensimille on the brain
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Skeemin on ya girls, bambooze or ya chain
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Got ill up on the train, twistin off a cap
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Of a English in my vain, might of pushed you on the tracks
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Deaf crack fiends, who can't speak, scream noises
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Cause she bought a jum of soap, from one of my boys, it's
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.... Just another day in the hood
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And I'm, wit some wild brothers, up to no good
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We saw the movies, like Tony Montana, and 'em
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But our style was let them pile then, we robbin 'em
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Money dudes, make 'em come up out they shoes
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Run they jewels, word is bond, where my man Nino goin
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And I had to make a song, speakin on my old life
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For the thief's who come out at night
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[Chorus]
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[Outro]
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One, two
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Check, one, two [echoes]
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One, two
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Check, one, two
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One, two, who got more style, the son do [echoes]
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[explosion]
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-----------------
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Thief's Theme (Remix)
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| Nas |
