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Rest of My LifeNas

Released: November 30, 2004

Songwriter: Chucky Thompson L.E.S. Nas

Producer: L.E.S. Chucky Thompson

[Chorus: Amerie]
Ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The rest of my life
Ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh (Oh)
The rest of my life

[Verse 1: Nas]
Life: dead presidents, devilish men
Overthrow king from they thrones cause of their negligence
Death, real shit'll start comin' to light
Niggas you ain't like dickin' your wife, what?
Kind of undermining, grimy, stiff corpse shapin'
Pork bacon, double-cross Satan
Heathens, non-god-fearing, lace thong wearing demons
But glory go to God, y'all beneath him
If y'all don't know that, rap with a old cat
He'll show you streets where them big dealers drove at
Where low-key killers let the fo' clap
Blocka-blocka-blocka—oh
The glow, the 'dro, the dough for shows
Everything a hood brother think he needs—yo
You'll find a goal in a ghetto superstar's roadmap
And I'mma use that for the—

[Chorus: Amerie]
Ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The rest of my life
Ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The rest of my life

[Verse 2: Nas]
Burnt-out, kicked to the curb
So I had to learn how to turn around a hundred thou' real fast
In '95 that was my last, I went back to the ave thinkin' rap's a thing of the past
Rest in peace E Money Bags, no more cabs, got caught with the ratchet in the stash
Lawyer want cash, my ba'y bro blast burners at cats who gel
They burnt a range with a Molotov cokctail
My little man got fourteen-years for car-jackin' a undercover
Them cops swear, my little nigga told on me
I'm thinkin, "Hello, where's the L-O-V-E"
Pigs play games, my little man'll never say names
Word to his pops with elephant veins
They both locked-up still, word to Will
I'll make it and chill for the—

[Chorus: Amerie]
Ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The rest of my life
Ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The rest of my life

[Verse 3: Nas]
My man gave his mommy coke
So she wouldn't hit the block all crazy for the smoke
Damn, nigga, could you picture you supplyin' your own moms
So she don't have to bone for dimes?
Or give dome for nicks' in the roofs of the projects
Where dogs shit and piss
Yeah, we all plan to get rich but it's all about how it's executed
Lexus coup-ed, brigettes from cubics
Might've been stupid, but I got far from twenty-six bars
To ten LPs
What can him tell me? Of them? Of y'all?
I'm Nas—on a track that's unorthodox
Like my life could've been offed by the cops
Told y'all, Nas will prevail by the book when it's up for sale
About the rest—

[Chorus: Amerie]
Ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The rest of my life
Ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The rest of my life

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.

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