Lyrical genius encompassed in Illmatic

Day 2 of this week commemorating Nas' Illmatic release 20 years ago on the 19th I wanna shed some light on the lyrics from 3 of the 9 tracks.

One of the most impactful things about this album when it went onto the shelves in 94 was the high bar it set for the rest of NY in terms of lyricism. This debut album made critics and fans alike make HUGE comparisons just off one album calling Nas the "new school Rakim" and akin to some of the originators of storytelling style of Hip Hop. It was a bar set so high that even Nas would never reach it again and to me the most amazing thing about that was it did this off just 9 tracks largely in part because of the lyricism. In today's post to commemorate I will post the lyrics from 3 of the best songs lyrically on Illmatic

- NY Stare of Mind

Rappers I monkey flip em with the funky rhythm
I be kickin' musician, inflictin' composition
Of pain I'm like Scarface sniffin' cocaine
Holdin' a M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, now
Bullet holes left in my peep holes
I'm suited up with street clothes
Hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes
Y'all know my steelo with or without the airplay
I keep some E&J, sittin' bent up in the stairway
Or either on the corner bettin' grants with the cee-lo champs
Laughin' at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken amps
G-Packs get off quick, forever ni**az talk shite
Remeniscin' about the last time the Task Force flipped
Ni**az be runnin' through the block shootin'
Time to start the revolution, catch a body head for Houston
Once they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass
And
I ran like a Cheetah with thoughts of an assassin
Pick the Mac up, told brothers, "Back up," the Mac spit
Lead was hittin' ni**az one ran, I made him backflip
Heard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn't look
Gave another squeeze heard it click yo, my shite is stuck
Try to cock it, it wouldn't shoot now I'm in danger
Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber
So now I'm jettin' to the building lobby
And it was full of children probably couldn't see as high as I be
(So whatchu sayin'?)
It's like the game ain't the same
Got younger ni**az pullin' the triggers bringing fame to they name
And claim some corners, crews without guns are goners
In broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on us
Fo'-fives and gauges, Macs in fact
Same ni**az'll catch a back to back, snatchin' yo' cracks in black
There was a snitch on the block gettin' ni**az knocked
So hold your stash till the coke price drops
I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock
And if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots
But yo you gotta slide on a vacation
Inside information keeps large ni**az erasin' and they wives basin
It drops deep as it does in my breath
I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined
I think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind

Hook

Be havin' dreams that I'm a gangsta, drinkin Moets, holdin' Tecs
Makin' sure the cash came correct then I stepped
Investments in stocks, sewein' up the blocks
To sell rocks, winnin' gunfights with mega cops
But just a ni**a, walkin' with his finger on the trigger
Make enough figures until my pockets get bigger
I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
Give me a Smith and Wessun I'll have ni**az undressin'
Thinkin' of cash flow,Buddah and shelter
Whenever frustrated I'm a hijack Delta
In the PJ's, my blend tape plays, bullets are strays
Young bitches is grazed each block is like a maze
Full of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packed
From what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back, black
I'm livin' where the nights is jet black
The fiends fight to get crack I just max, I dream I can sit back
And lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewn
Or the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, homes
I got so many rhymes I don't think I'm too sane
Life is parallel to Hell but I must maintain
And be prosperous, though we live dangerous
Cops could just arrest me, blamin' us, we're held like hostages
It's only right that I was born to use mics
And the stuff that I write, is even tougher than dice
I'm takin' rappers to a new plateau, through rap slow
My rhymin' is a vitamin, Hell without a capsule
The smooth criminal on beat breaks
Never put me in your box if your shite eats tapes
The city never sleeps, full of villians and creeps
That's where I learned to do my hustle had to scuffle with freaks
I'm a addict for sneakers, twenties of Buddah and bitches with beepers
In the streets I can greet ya, about blunts I teach ya
Inhale deep like the words of my breath
I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
I lay puzzle as I backtrack to earlier times
Nothing's equivalent, to the New York state of mind

Hook



- Memory Lane (Sittin in Da Park)

I rap for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and prisoners
Hennessey holders and old school ni**az
Then I be dissin' a unofficial that mo moolie Thai
I dropped out of Kooley High, gassed up by a cokehead cutie pie
Jungle survivor, frick who's the liver
My man put the battery in my back, a difference from Energizer
Sentence begins indented with formality
My duration's infinite, money wise or physiology
Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop
I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop, straight off the block
I reminisce on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat
Childhood lesson make me see him drop in my weed smoke
It's real, grew up in trife life, did times or white lines
The hype vice, murderous nighttimes and knife fights invite crimes
Chill on the block with Cognac, hold strap
With my peeps that's into drug money, market into rap
No sign of the beast in the blue Chrysler, I guess that means peace
For ni**az no sheisty vice to just snipe ya
Start off the dice-rollin' mats for craps to cee-lo
With sidebets, I roll a deuce, nothin' below
(Peace God)
Peace God, now the shite is explained
I'm takin' ni**az on a trip straight through memory lane
It's like that y'all, it's like that y'all

Hook

One for the money, two for pussy and foreign cars
Three for Alize ni**az deceased or behind bars
I rap divine Gods 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 blowin', black stitches or fat shoelaces
Peoples are petrol, dramatic automatic fo'-fo' 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, hustlin' brothers who keep the same rank
Pumpin' for somethin', some uprise, plus some fail
Judges hangin' ni**az, uncorrect bails, for direct sales
My intellect prevails from a hangin' cross with nails
I reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's real
Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats
I decipher prophecies through a mic and say peace
I hung around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats
They spoke of Fat Cat, that ni**az name made bell rings, black
Some fiends scream about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing
Uptown was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin, yo
frick rap is real, watch the herbs stand still
Never talkin' to snakes 'cause the words of man kill
True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my veins
I pour my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane

Hook