The Stretch Armstrong and Bobbito Show on WKCR October 28 1993
Nas Lyrics


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How should I start this?
How should I begin, to sin?
Grab the microphone and my rhymes'll win
Wheel of Fortune, spin, around
Check it out, I'm not a rap clown
Get smacked down by the fuckin' four pound
In your dome
Hit you with the nick plate chrome
Queensbridge, thats my motherfuckin' home
Off the top of my head, yo, I'm a blunt head
Police... Police want a nigga dead
But, I'm not going out like that black
I kick the actual facts in so low
Cold as a Polar Bear, I swear, word to Will
But I'mma chill, rhymes'll kill
Niggas know the style when I freak the profile
Asiatic Child, yo
Grand Wizard on the side of me
Yo, Get on the mic and bless the M-I-C

But I'mma pass it off to my man Six-Nine
Kick it one time

Hey, Yo, Six-Nine a true to life nigga
Yo, my style is iller, iller than Halle Berry's figure
Niggas don't fuck with the Six-Niner
Shorty watch your mouth, I smack you back in your vagina
Heres to reaper crack and sunrise tequila
Kill the margarita heres a 50 get some more cheaper
The ghetto trooper, so sparred up the booth buddha
My thoughts stay nasty like the underground sewage
To be the man you gotta beat the man
It ain't nothing, so start come here but nothin' mark my timberlands
You want static? Lets have it knuckles will flow like the Atlantic
But sink like the Titanic
Since birth I was thinking too fast, my first beef was with the doctor
When he smacked me on the ass
The trigger man, I'm crazy like Sam
My skills so Ill like a with a white chick with a suntan

One for the money
Two for pussy and foreign cars
Three for Alize, niggas deceased or behind bars
I rap divine, God, check the prognosis: is it real or showbiz?
My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses
Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for real
A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja
Here's my basis, my razor embraces, many faces
Your telephone blowing, black stitches or fat shoelaces
Peoples are petro, dramatic automatic .44 I let blow
And back down po-po when I'm vexed so
My pen taps the paper then my brain's blank
I see dark streets, hustling brothers who keep the same rank
Pumping for something, some'll prosper, some fail
Judges hanging niggas, uncorrect bails for direct sales
My intellect prevails from a hanging cross with nails
I reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's real
Word to Christ, a disciple on streets, trifle on beats
But, Chill! Place the microphone and say peace
So Sudan, take the microphone in your hand
Kick the flim flam

Queensbridge, when will the drama ever cease?
I like to say peace Willie and rest in peace
A cool brother who's all about justice
I still can't understand how he left us
Well... he's gone and life goes on you know
We had a crew but one by one we go
Memories of his face that was full of joy
Rock-a Rock-a bye Rock-a bye homeboy
Reminiscing with the brothers standing on the block
Never talk a lot, never was a big shot
It's so hard to say goodbye a sad song
And damn I can't believe my man's gone
Digging back in the days when we used to laugh
Now its a memory that's haunted from the past
Poor Willy its a shame how the ghetto got him
And word is bond - I wanna cry when I think about him
Three bullets to his back on his own block
Not a way to go, killed by the buckshot
Queensbridge wake and up and smell the air
And stop killin' like a villain, like you don't care
Remember Willie and times we had with joy
Rock-a Rock-a bye Rock-a bye homeboy
Rock-a Rock-a bye Rock-a bye homeboy
Rock-a Rock-a bye

My skills are ill like the prez with a plan
My brothers run from Sudan then the Ku-Klux-Klan
Like a kamikaze, Sadaam Hussein then won
Feel the buns of a nun, put tricks for funds and chill
I slow a verse so you can understand
I kill rappers more freaky than a motherfuckin' a Mic Man
And when it comes to a battle
I stand out tall like the man who played the man on The White Shadow

To my man Jungle
Dwelling in the jungle
Where must we go?
Where must we wander
Deep out the skies come the MC Nas
Not to surprise, but to civilize
Yo, the dumb men wandering around the streets
Listenin' to a nigga rappin' on fly beats
I just kicked a mad philly style
Get bucked wild cause you know my style
I could run a word, kick it to a herb
Make 'em turn into a rich man
Increase the plan, the master plan
Yo, I'm buggin' out cause the weed got me buggin'
Plus the Guinness Stout
Grand Wizard yo, you my physical
Why don't you mic the mic, make the microphone miserable

It's cuisine, the G the Wiz (?)
You know our culture gone get Biz
I got my man Nasty on the side of me
My man Six-Nine, you know we're not hotter G
I am the man that'll break it down
I'll break all down cuz I got the sound
I got Queensbridge in the back of me
The Tec and everything, I'm coming strapped G

Money and murder, money and murder
The sick shit you heard comin' from my motherfuckin' my swerve
The words are poetic, I sound energetic
When I'm blunted or Moet'd
My microphone's upsetted cause I'm crazy
Now you know, never lazy
Yo, I'm gonna get all the cash I can
Don't give a fuck if I gotta shoot a policeman
Pluckin' a church and snatch a fuckin'... nah can't be flippin' like that
Cause you niggas try to jock the style
But I left that shit to get the new shit, float like the now
Now you can't catch up G
Cause I got the new styles on the M-I-C
I keep gettin' newer, can't step to her
Nigga from the Bridge, so you keep that shit
And I'mma flip the script next year
And my real name is Nasir
Can't spell it cause I say it too clear
The alphabets are not enough words or letters to use
When it comes to mics I bruise
I just go, with the magical mystic flow
Niggas don't know, that's word to the man Bo
I get Illmatic with the style that's insane
Comin' outta fuckin' murderous brain




Grand Wizard, please take this Mic from me
Before I bug the fuck out and end up D-E-A-D

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Nas's song "The Stretch Armstrong and Bobbito Show on WKCR October 28 1993" are a representation of his prowess as a rapper. In the beginning, he starts by posing a question about how he should begin, showing his confidence in his abilities to sin or rather win with his rhymes. He mentions his hometown- Queensbridge- which has a reputation for being a rough neighborhood. Nas talks about how he is not interested in wielding weak rhymes and that he is capable of spitting hard-hitting bars that will hit hard like the four-pound, referring to a gun.


He goes further to state that he aspires to be known for his lyrical talent, like Will Shakespeare or the Grand Wizard, a title attributed to various prominent Hip-Hop artists over the years. The song then takes on various topics, including poverty, street violence, activism, and remembering his fallen comrades.


Overall, Nas conveys a message of resilience and pride in this song. The lyrics are empowering to urban youth and serve to inspire them to strive to be better and make a change in their society.


Line by Line Meaning

How should I start this?
How should I begin this song?


How should I begin, to sin?
How should I embark on a sinful journey?


Grab the microphone and my rhymes'll win
Seize the mic and my lyrics will conquer


Wheel of Fortune, spin, around
Like the game show, luck is unpredictable


Check it out, I'm not a rap clown
I am not a joke in the rap game


Get smacked down by the fuckin' four pound
Experience a beatdown from a gun


In your dome
In your head


Hit you with the nick plate chrome
Strike you with a nickel-plated gun


Queensbridge, thats my motherfuckin' home
Queensbridge is my hometown


Off the top of my head, yo, I'm a blunt head
Freestyling from the top of my mind


Police... Police want a nigga dead
The police are out to kill me


But, I'm not going out like that black
But, I won't let them kill me that easily


I kick the actual facts in so low
I deliver the truth in a raw, intense manner


Cold as a Polar Bear, I swear, word to Will
Emotionless and tough, a tribute to Will


But I'mma chill, rhymes'll kill
But I will remain calm, my lyrics will destroy


Niggas know the style when I freak the profile
People recognize my unique rap style


Asiatic Child, yo
Proudly claiming my Asian heritage


Grand Wizard on the side of me
A talented partner by my side


Yo, Get on the mic and bless the M-I-C
Take the microphone and showcase your skills


But I'mma pass it off to my man Six-Nine
But now I'll give the spotlight to my friend Six-Nine


Kick it one time
Show us what you've got


Hey, Yo, Six-Nine a true to life nigga
Hey, Yo, Six-Nine is an authentic guy


Yo, my style is iller, iller than Halle Berry's figure
My style is exceptional, even better than Halle Berry's beauty


Niggas don't fuck with the Six-Niner
People don't mess with Six-Nine


Shorty watch your mouth, I smack you back in your vagina
Be careful what you say, or I'll hit you hard


Heres to reaper crack and sunrise tequila
Celebrate with drugs and alcohol


Kill the margarita heres a 50 get some more cheaper
Finish the margarita, here's money to buy more at a lower price


The ghetto trooper, so sparred up the booth buddha
A warrior from the streets, ready to fight for his beliefs


My thoughts stay nasty like the underground sewage
My mind is filled with vulgar thoughts, comparable to sewage


To be the man you gotta beat the man
To succeed, you must surpass others


It ain't nothing, so start come here but nothin' mark my timberlands
It's easy, so step up and face me but you'll achieve nothing, remember my Timberland boots


You want static? Lets have it knuckles will flow like the Atlantic
You want a fight? Let's do it, punches will be thrown fiercely like the waves of the Atlantic Ocean


But sink like the Titanic
But ultimately fail, just like the Titanic


Since birth I was thinking too fast, my first beef was with the doctor
I've always been quick-minded, my first conflict was with the doctor who delivered me


When he smacked me on the ass
When he spanked me as a newborn


The trigger man, I'm crazy like Sam
I'm the one with the gun, I'm as insane as Sam


My skills so Ill like a with a white chick with a suntan
My skills are amazing, like a white girl with a deep tan


One for the money
One reason: money


Two for pussy and foreign cars
Two reasons: sex and expensive cars


Three for Alize, niggas deceased or behind bars
Three reasons: drinking Alize, dead friends, or incarcerated friends


I rap divine, God, check the prognosis: is it real or showbiz?
I rap with a divine presence, God-like, check if my authenticity is genuine or just for show


My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses
I witness gunfights and drug overdoses from my window


Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for real
I live in a harsh environment with no beauty, only drama


A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja
A gun is my constant companion, and marijuana is my remedy


Here's my basis, my razor embraces, many faces
I rely on my weaponry, my razor sharp skills, and my ability to adapt to different situations


Your telephone blowing, black stitches or fat shoelaces
Your phone is ringing constantly, representing either bad news or a sign of wealth


Peoples are petro, dramatic automatic .44 I let blow
People are explosive, I unleash my .44 caliber gun


And back down po-po when I'm vexed so
I challenge the police when I'm angry


My pen taps the paper then my brain's blank
I start writing, but my mind goes blank


I see dark streets, hustling brothers who keep the same rank
I see the reality of the grim streets, where brothers are trapped in the same cycle of hustling


Pumping for something, some'll prosper, some fail
Striving for a purpose, some will succeed, while others will fail


Judges hanging niggas, uncorrect bails for direct sales
Judges unfairly sentencing black men, with high bails for drug-related crimes


My intellect prevails from a hanging cross with nails
My intelligence overcomes hardships and obstacles


I reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's real
I strengthen the vulnerable with genuine lyrics


Word to Christ, a disciple on streets, trifle on beats
A shout-out to Jesus Christ, I'm a follower in the streets and a villain on beats


But, Chill! Place the microphone and say peace
But, calm down! Pass the mic and share peace


So Sudan, take the microphone in your hand
So Sudan, grab the mic and perform


Kick the flim flam
Deliver your style


Queensbridge, when will the drama ever cease?
Queensbridge, when will the turmoil ever end?


I like to say peace Willie and rest in peace
I would like to send peace to Willie, rest in peace


A cool brother who's all about justice
A calm and righteous individual


I still can't understand how he left us
I can't comprehend his departure


Well... he's gone and life goes on you know
Well... he's gone, but life continues


We had a crew but one by one we go
We had a group, but one by one we leave this world


Memories of his face that was full of joy
I remember his joyful face


Rock-a Rock-a bye Rock-a bye homeboy
Goodbye, my friend


Reminiscing with the brothers standing on the block
Remembering the good times with friends on the street corner


Never talk a lot, never was a big shot
We were quiet and humble, never seeking attention


It's so hard to say goodbye a sad song
It's difficult to bid farewell, it's a sad situation


And damn I can't believe my man's gone
And damn, I can't believe my friend is gone


Digging back in the days when we used to laugh
Reflecting on the past when we laughed together


Now its a memory that's haunted from the past
Now it's a haunted memory from the past


Poor Willy its a shame how the ghetto got him
Poor Willy, it's a shame how the neighborhood destroyed him


And word is bond - I wanna cry when I think about him
And I swear - I feel like crying when I think about him


Three bullets to his back on his own block
He was shot three times in the back on his own street


Not a way to go, killed by the buckshot
A tragic way to die, killed by shotgun blasts


Queensbridge wake and up and smell the air
Queensbridge, wake up and realize the reality


And stop killin' like a villain, like you don't care
And stop killing each other, as if you have no regard for life


Remember Willie and times we had with joy
Remember Willie and the happy times we shared


Rock-a Rock-a bye Rock-a bye homeboy
Goodbye, my friend


Rock-a Rock-a bye Rock-a bye homeboy
Goodbye, my friend


Rock-a Rock-a bye
Goodbye


My skills are ill like the prez with a plan
My skills are sick, like the President with a well-thought-out plan


My brothers run from Sudan then the Ku-Klux-Klan
My brothers flee from Sudan to escape the Ku Klux Klan


Like a kamikaze, Sadaam Hussein then won
Like a kamikaze, I will cause chaos just like Saddam Hussein did


Feel the buns of a nun, put tricks for funds and chill
Feel the excitement of a nun, perform tricks for money and relax


I slow a verse so you can understand
I deliver a verse slowly so that you can comprehend


I kill rappers more freaky than a motherfuckin' a Mic Man
I destroy rappers in a more magnificent manner than a mic-master


And when it comes to a battle
And when it comes to a rap battle


I stand out tall like the man who played the man on The White Shadow
I stand out prominently, just like the actor who portrayed the coach on The White Shadow


To my man Jungle
Shout-out to my friend Jungle


Dwelling in the jungle
Living in the dangerous streets


Where must we go?
Where do we have to go?


Where must we wander
Where do we have to wander?


Deep out the skies come the MC Nas
From the depths of the sky comes the MC Nas


Not to surprise, but to civilize
Not to shock, but to educate


Yo, the dumb men wandering around the streets
Hey, the ignorant men aimlessly wandering the streets


Listenin' to a nigga rappin' on fly beats
Listening to a black man rapping on cool beats


I just kicked a mad philly style
I just showcased a unique Philly rap style


Get bucked wild cause you know my style
Get wild and energetic because you know my style


I could run a word, kick it to a herb
I can freestyle and speak to anyone


Make 'em turn into a rich man
Make them transform into a wealthy individual


Increase the plan, the master plan
Strengthen the strategy, the ultimate plan


Yo, I'm buggin' out cause the weed got me buggin'
Hey, I'm losing my mind because of the marijuana


Plus the Guinness Stout
And the strong beer called Guinness Stout


Grand Wizard yo, you my physical
Grand Wizard, you're my partner in crime


Why don't you mic the mic, make the microphone miserable
Take the mic, make the microphone suffer


It's cuisine, the G the Wiz (?)
It's the perfect blend, the Grand Wizard (?)


You know our culture gone get Biz
You know our culture will prosper and succeed


I got my man Nasty on the side of me
I have my friend Nasty by my side


My man Six-Nine, you know we're not hotter G
My friend Six-Nine, you know we're not better, G


I am the man that'll break it down
I am the man who will explain it clearly


I'll break all down cuz I got the sound
I'll break everything down because of my unique sound


I got Queensbridge in the back of me
I have the support of Queensbridge


The Tec and everything, I'm coming strapped G
I'm prepared with my gun and everything, ready to go


Money and murder, money and murder
The constant cycle of money and murder


The sick shit you heard comin' from my motherfuckin' my swerve
The disturbing things you hear from my unpredictable style


The words are poetic, I sound energetic
My lyrics are poetic, and I sound lively


When I'm blunted or Moet'd
When I'm high on marijuana or intoxicated with Moet


My microphone's upsetted cause I'm crazy
My microphone is disturbed because I'm insane


Now you know, never lazy
Now you know, I'm never lazy


Yo, I'm gonna get all the cash I can
Hey, I'll do whatever it takes to get all the money I can


Don't give a fuck if I gotta shoot a policeman
I don't care if I have to shoot a police officer


Pluckin' a church and snatch a fuckin'... nah can't be flippin' like that
Robbing a church and stealing, but no, I can't go down that path


Cause you niggas try to jock the style
Because you people try to copy my style


But I left that shit to get the new shit, float like the now
But I've moved on to the new style, flowing with the current trends


Now you can't catch up G
Now you can't keep up, my friend


Cause I got the new styles on the M-I-C
Because I possess the new styles on the microphone


I keep gettin' newer, can't step to her
I keep evolving, can't compete with me


Nigga from the Bridge, so you keep that shit
A person from the Bridge, so you better watch out


And I'mma flip the script next year
And I'm going to change things up next year


And my real name is Nasir
And my actual name is Nasir


Can't spell it cause I say it too clear
Can't spell it out, because I pronounce it too clearly


The alphabets are not enough words or letters to use
The alphabet is insufficient to express my thoughts


When it comes to mics I bruise
When it comes to microphones, I dominate


I just go, with the magical mystic flow
I just go with the enchanting and mystical flow


Niggas don't know, that's word to the man Bo
People don't understand, that's a tribute to the man Bo


I get Illmatic with the style that's insane
I become Illmatic with my insane style


Comin' outta fuckin' murderous brain
Coming from a mind filled with murderous thoughts


Grand Wizard, please take this Mic from me
Grand Wizard, please take the microphone away from me


Before I bug the fuck out and end up D-E-A-D
Before I go crazy and end up dead




Contributed by Makayla G. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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