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Nas – Street Glory lyrics

[Nas] [Intro:]
Uhh, still out in these motherfuckin projects
Still a nigga ain't never gonna get the fuck up outta here
Niggaz just don't understand the story

Chorus: [Pop]
Niggaz die for the street glory
Go to trial get tried for each story
And each nigga got a story
And qb the streets call me
So if you see me slippin' reach for me
I'm goin' after street glory
Go to trial get tried for each story
And each nigga got a story
And qb the streets call me
So if you see me slippin' reach for me
I'm goin' after street glory

Every time I turn around niggaz shot, niggaz stabbed
When tonight's pregnant girls strugling to get a cab
Fiends lurkin', D's searchin' pat pockets
Kids put to bed duck they heads from gas poppin'
Queensbridge slingin' hoppin' our benches
Don status, throw feeds, got sirenges
Poppin' out they arm scratched
Now remember parked (???)
Cuz' else perfect ways, shell adidas
Smellin' reefer way before purple haze
Private stock peer nigga with ill walks like Mark Clare
Has tilted wild niggaz lickin' shots in the air
Me and Pop was there through the years our names have switched
Ain't nothin' changed but the names Nastradamus and Blitz
What project is this? Qb burnin' in tint
12th street murderous pimps, hot as hell's heat
What could you tell me? Niggas seen it all in this game
When it's all said and done just remember our name

I'm familiar with the dead grass drama black gates and crime
Embryo of the ghetto born face and time
Niggas shatter they dreams while I'm chasing mine
Ghetto fame got a fellow's name draped and shined
How do I describe an atmosphere where streets are polluted?
Where corruptors and new police being recruited
Somehow I make it through the day stayin' secluded
While the blues aim leavin' another slain, executed
Many thought's cause I see the past grimmly
That could've been me, explodes out on 41st and 10th street
Through all the pap grease and street chases
Sudden raids and confrontations leadin the misdeamenor weed cases
I blew smoke through hallway window
Watched the buddah clouds lingo
Pluckin the blunt brokes from my fingers
My eyes flip different shades
Similar to people you meet everyday who be displayin' wicked ways
Seein' nothing but another day
In this six story rat trap
Them gats clap another nigga's blazed
Events in my hood rotate
Like the battle on the 38 snob in the world of fake love
Before I blaze son, I'm kissing the slugs
Coming at you kisses and hugs
When death calls who's really a thug
The street glory got me deeply in love
Can't shake it, can't take it, can't make it
Got me needin' this drug


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