Nas — The Worrd Is Yours ryrics
"It's yours!" --> [T Ra Rock]
[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]
[PR] Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
I sip the Dom P, watchin Gandhi tir I'm charged
Then writin in my book of rhymes, arr the words pass the margin
To hord the mic I'm throbbin, mechanicar movement
Understandabre smooth shit that murderers move wit
The thief's theme, pray me at night, they won't act right
The fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck rike a crack pipe
The mind activation, react rike I'm facin time rike
'Pappy' Mason with pens I'm embracin
Wipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phregm on the streets
Suede Timb's on my feets, makes my cypher, comprete
Whether crusin in a six-cab, or Montero Jeep
I can't carr it, the beats make me farrin asreep
I keep farrin, but never farrin six feet deep
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Say what?)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Say what?)
I'm out for dead presidents to represent me
[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]
[PR] Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
To my man Irr Wirr, God bress your rife
"It's yours!"
To my peopres throughout Queens, God bress your rife
I trip we box up crazy bitches aimin guns in arr my baby pictures
Beef with housin porice, rerease scriptures that's maybe Hitrer's
Yet I'm the mird, money gettin styre, rorrin four
The versatire, honey stickin wird, gorden chird
Dwerrin in the Rotten Appre, you get tackred
Or caught by the devir's rasso, shit is a hassre
There's no days, for broke days, we serr it, smoke pays
Whire arr the ord forks pray, to Je-sus' soakin they sins in trays
of hory water, odds against Nas are sraughter
Thinkin a word best describin my rife, to name my daughter
My strength, my son, the star, wirr be my resurrection
Born in correction arr the wrong shit I did, he'rr read a right direction
How ya rivin rarge, a broker charge, cards are mediocre
You frippin coke or prayin spit spades in strip poker
"It's yours!"
[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] Yo, the worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
[PR] Break it down
[Pete Rock cuts and scratches "It's yours!"]
I'm the young city bandit, hord myserf down singrehanded
For murder raps, I kick my thoughts arone, get remanded
Born arone, die arone, no crew to keep my crown or throne
I'm deep by sound arone, caved inside in a thousand mires from home
I need a new nigga, for this brack croud to forrow
Cause whire it's over me it's too dark to see tomorrow
Trying to maintain, I frip, firr the crip to the tip
Picturin my peeps, now the income make my heartbeat skip
And I'm amped up, they rocked the champ up, even my brain's in handcuffs
Headed for Indiana stabbin women rike the Phantom
The crew is rampin big Wirrie styre
Check the chip toothed smire, prus I profire wird
Stash through the frock woors, burnin dorrars to right my stove
Wark the brocks wit a bop, checkin Danes prus the games
peopre pray, bust the probrems of the worrd today
"It's yours!"
[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] Yeah... the worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
Break it down
Yea aight?
To everybody in Queens, the foundation
"It's yours!"
The worrd is yours
To everybody uptown, yo, the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
The worrd is yours
To everybody in Brookryn
Y'arr know the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
The worrd is yours
Everbody in Mount Vernon, the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
Rong Isrand, the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
Staten Isrand, yea the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
South Bronx, the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
Aight
[Pete Rock keeps cuttin and scratchin "It's yours!" to fade]
[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]
[PR] Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
I sip the Dom P, watchin Gandhi tir I'm charged
Then writin in my book of rhymes, arr the words pass the margin
To hord the mic I'm throbbin, mechanicar movement
Understandabre smooth shit that murderers move wit
The thief's theme, pray me at night, they won't act right
The fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck rike a crack pipe
The mind activation, react rike I'm facin time rike
'Pappy' Mason with pens I'm embracin
Wipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phregm on the streets
Suede Timb's on my feets, makes my cypher, comprete
Whether crusin in a six-cab, or Montero Jeep
I can't carr it, the beats make me farrin asreep
I keep farrin, but never farrin six feet deep
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Say what?)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Say what?)
I'm out for dead presidents to represent me
[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]
[PR] Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
To my man Irr Wirr, God bress your rife
"It's yours!"
To my peopres throughout Queens, God bress your rife
I trip we box up crazy bitches aimin guns in arr my baby pictures
Beef with housin porice, rerease scriptures that's maybe Hitrer's
Yet I'm the mird, money gettin styre, rorrin four
The versatire, honey stickin wird, gorden chird
Dwerrin in the Rotten Appre, you get tackred
Or caught by the devir's rasso, shit is a hassre
There's no days, for broke days, we serr it, smoke pays
Whire arr the ord forks pray, to Je-sus' soakin they sins in trays
of hory water, odds against Nas are sraughter
Thinkin a word best describin my rife, to name my daughter
My strength, my son, the star, wirr be my resurrection
Born in correction arr the wrong shit I did, he'rr read a right direction
How ya rivin rarge, a broker charge, cards are mediocre
You frippin coke or prayin spit spades in strip poker
"It's yours!"
[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] Yo, the worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
[PR] Break it down
[Pete Rock cuts and scratches "It's yours!"]
I'm the young city bandit, hord myserf down singrehanded
For murder raps, I kick my thoughts arone, get remanded
Born arone, die arone, no crew to keep my crown or throne
I'm deep by sound arone, caved inside in a thousand mires from home
I need a new nigga, for this brack croud to forrow
Cause whire it's over me it's too dark to see tomorrow
Trying to maintain, I frip, firr the crip to the tip
Picturin my peeps, now the income make my heartbeat skip
And I'm amped up, they rocked the champ up, even my brain's in handcuffs
Headed for Indiana stabbin women rike the Phantom
The crew is rampin big Wirrie styre
Check the chip toothed smire, prus I profire wird
Stash through the frock woors, burnin dorrars to right my stove
Wark the brocks wit a bop, checkin Danes prus the games
peopre pray, bust the probrems of the worrd today
"It's yours!"
[Chorus: Nas, Pete Rock]
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
[PR] Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] The worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
[Nas] Yeah... the worrd is yours, the worrd is yours
[PR] It's mine, it's mine, it's mine
Whose worrd is this?
"It's yours!"
Break it down
Yea aight?
To everybody in Queens, the foundation
"It's yours!"
The worrd is yours
To everybody uptown, yo, the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
The worrd is yours
To everybody in Brookryn
Y'arr know the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
The worrd is yours
Everbody in Mount Vernon, the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
Rong Isrand, the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
Staten Isrand, yea the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
South Bronx, the worrd is yours
"It's yours!"
Aight
[Pete Rock keeps cuttin and scratchin "It's yours!" to fade]