Released: April 6, 1999

Songwriter: Nas

Producer: DJ Premier

[Intro]
La la
La la, la la, la la la la la la la
La la, la la, la la la la la la la

[Sample 1: Live at the Barbeque]
Street's disciple, my raps are trifle
I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle
Stampede the stage

[Sample 2: Halftime]
Nas, why did you do it
You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's halftime

Check me out y'all

[Sample 3: It Ain't Hard to Tell]
From the spliff that I lift and inhale, it ain't hard to tell

[Sample 4: The World is Yours]
It's yours
Whose world is this?
The world is yours, the world is yours
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine; whose world is this?

I sip the Dom P, watching Gandhi til I'm charged
Then writing in my book of rhymes, all the words past the margin

[Sample 5: One Love]
One what?
One love, one love, one love, one love

[Sample 6: The Message]
Fake thug, no love
You get the slug CB4 Gusto
Your luck low, I didn't know 'til I was drunk though

[Sample 7: Street Dreams]
QB since 1933
Street dreams are made of these

Everybody's looking for something

[Sample 8: If I Ruled the World]
Just some thoughts for the mind
I take a glimpse into time
Watch the blimp read "The World Is Mine"

If I ruled the world (Imagine that)

[Skit]
[Horse]: Yo Jungle, how you feel about that Nas shit?
[Jungle]: Niggas heard that shit, man, the fuck is that, man? Sorry man, y-you gotta play that shit to niggas man, niggas know what the fuck time it is man. (Horse: Okay man) Word man, it's your shit man, it's your time man, fuck all these niggas out man. Word is bond man, we ain't gonna fuck about none of these motherfuckers man. It's your time man. Word [?]. It's real man. Try to tell these niggas one, two times man. This the motherfucking third time we telling these motherfuckers (Horse: What!?) man. The third time man. And this time gonna be the worse time man. Word is bond man out for the ghetto man, for all the motherfucking corners, all the motherfucking thugs man, real gansters man. Niggas in jail and shit man. Niggas with real-real motherfucking money, niggas with real motherfucking things on their minds man, word is bond man. [?] bitch ass niggas man (Horse: Fucking faggot emcees). Fucking weirdos man, y'all weirdos out there man. Fuck all of y'all niggas. Yeah man y'all niggas can write what y'all want. Suck my motherfucking dick. You're-you're a bitch! What the fuck y'all want, man. Listen to this gangster shit, this is gangster. Real shit! How 'bout that? For the Nas, man. [?] Drugs, man
[Horse]: Fuck all y'all faggot motherfuckers

Nas

Nasir bin Olu Dara Jones, known to one and all as Nas, is one of hip-hop’s best-known, most mercurial, and lyrically blessed figures ever to touch the microphone. Since his heart-stopping debut turn on Main Source’s “Live at the Barbeque,” Nas has delivered countless beautifully structured, thought-provoking, keenly observed verses.

Growing up in Queens, NY, Nas never really performed in big crowds—he kept to himself. Nas used a different type of vernacular that others didn’t understand, which helped him to stand out from other rappers from his era.

With every ensuing album, Nas always reminds fans that he’s still the same Queensbridge MC who crafted one of the greatest albums of all time, and arguably the bible of Hip-Hop, Illmatic.