Nas

Listen up gangstas and honeys with ya hair done
Pull up a chair hon' and put it in the air son
Dog, whatever they call you, god, just listen
I spit a story backwards, it starts at the ending
The bullet goes back in the gun
The bullet hole's closin this chest of a nigga
Now he back to square one
Screamin, Shoot don't please
I put my fifth back on my hip
It's like a VCR rewindin a hit
He put his hands back on his bitch
My caravan doors open up
I jumped back in the van and closed it shut
Goin reverse, slowly prepared
My nigga Jungle utters out somethin crazy like, Go he there
Sittin in back of this chair, we hittin the roach
The smoke goes back in the blunt, the blunt gets bigger in growth
Jungle unrolls it, put his weed back in the jar
The blunt turns back into a cigar
We listen to Stevie, it sounded like heavy metal fans
Spinnin records backwards of AC/DC
I give my niggas dap, jump out the van back first
Back upstairs, took off the black shirt
I'm in the crib with the phone to my ear
Listen up so y'all can figure out the poem real clear
The voice on the phone was like, Outside right we
So with my mouth wide, holdin my heat