Correction Paroles Cowboy-Cross par Nas

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Paroles

I carry the cross, if Virgin Mary had an abortion
I'd still be carried in the chariot by stampedin' horses
Had to bring it back to New York
I'm happy that the streets is back in New York
For you rappers, I carry the cross
I carry the cross, if Virgin Mary had an abortion
I'd still be carried in the chariot by stampedin' horses
Had to bring it back to New York
I'm happy that the streets is back in New York
For you rappers, I carry the cross

Y'all can keep y'all weak beats from your corny producers
There's a new king of the streets, you're gonna get used to
I was the old king of the streets, that y'all once hated
But now I reinvented myself, and y'all all waited
NAS, N.A.S. mean n***as Against Society
Noisy I aim, not silently, noose all surroundin' me
I hang 'em, I string 'em up, ain't no thing, I just drop 'em
To which doctor you copped
And you locked and it ain't what it was
I changed it up from that pop sh*t, it's hard to see R&amp;B
Rappers arguably, started f**kin' up the game horribly
'Cause I parted the sea, then these novices targeted me
b*t*hes infatuated say they love me lyin' to me
What I've discovered is my brother's tryin' to be
The next me, yeah I support him, but he's blinded I see
Jealousy, he love me to death and I'm buggin'
I love him for life, we both still mournin' on our mother's life
And I don't need much but a Dutch, a b*t*h to f**k
A six, a truck, some guns to bust
I wish it was that simple, the last emperor, hit yo' ass
With the Nasty Nas diary, get out my path

I carry the cross, if Virgin Mary would've an abortion
I'd still be carried in the chariot by stampedin' horses
Had to bring it back to New York
I'm happy that the streets is back in New York
For you rappers, I carry the cross
I carry the cross, if Virgin Mary had an abortion
I'd still be carried in the chariot by stampedin' horses
Had to bring it back to New York
I'm happy that the streets is back in New York
For you rappers, I carry the cross

Yo, bust a motherf**king gat to this
Y'all believe lies like y'all was Catholics
I rap in Arabic, so my message is just immaculate
My rap elaborate, drink a forty and blaze a sack to it
My aim is accurate, take your brain and blow out the back of it
I'm salty, miserable cat that slap shorties
Looks kinda resemble that, a fat Pauly
I don't even clap, young boy, he claps for me
Chain hang down to my d**k, I'm that gaudy
I don't even f**k wit you cats, you rap poorly
I don't even buck at you cats, you that corny
Wit a wack army, we barkin' at you
And Vinnie Paz holds a hammer like a carpenter do
You should understand that I ain't really f**kin' around
And if you don't, you gonna find your body stuffed in the ground
We buckin' em down, cuz that's how wrong my life is
Y'all don't overstand how f**kin' strong my wife is
I'm from a time where every song was righteous
Before rap was just a swarm of white kids
And y'all a witness to the dawn of hypeness
Or just another victim to the pawns and sheisters

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