Nas Thief's Theme

[Intro]

One, two

Check, one, two

One, two, who got more style, the son do

{*rewind*}

One, two

Check, one, two

One, two, who got more style, the son do

Check, one, two

[Verse 1]

Yo I'm hot like 95 Fahrenheit

On a summer night, tight spot where bodies rot

Rats drink from water drops, in the streets niggaz

Little kids scared cops, wit red dots

Philosophical gangsta, where violent priors

Goin back like black and white TV's wit pliers

Leanin on broke down cars, wit flat tires

Flash iron, or anybody tryin on the blocks I'm supplyin on

Mighty call, my peeps, tie ballons up

And swallow 'em and the penal got goons, lots of 'em

Cops see them and run, don't want no drama

Certain parts of the streets, the beast don't want a part of

Mortar, hood haunted like the Dakota

Where John Lennon was shot up, but he sang for peace

He begged for freedom, hanged wit wild Jamicians

From Kingston, who drink Irish Moss

Listenin to Peter Winston, Machintosh

Lightning hits the top of the church steeple

When I'm writin, semi-automatic no hyphen

It's frightening.... {*scratches*}

[Chorus]

The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right

Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit

The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right

Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit

The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right

Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit

The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right

Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit

[Verse 2]

I take summers off, cause I love winter beef

Started '87, wit the shotty in the sheet

Three-quarter length beige, dressed to kill

Bust a shell at the ground, pellets hit the crowd

Nobody like a snitch, everybody shut they mouth

Rule which car heart, gun powder stains

Smellin like trees, set some mill on the brain

Skeemin on ya girls, bamboozled on ya chain

Got ill up on the train, twistin off a cap

Of a English in my vain, might of pushed you on the tracks

Death crack fiends, who can't speak, scream noises

Cause you bought a drummer sooked, from one of my boys, it's

.... Just another day in the hood

And I'm, wit some wild brothers, up to no good

We saw the movies, like Tony Montana, and 'em

But our style was let them piled in, we robbin 'em

Money dudes, make 'em come up out they shoes

Run they jewels, word is bond, where my man Nino goin

And I had to make a song, speakin on my old life

For the thief's who come out at night

[Chorus]

[Outro]

One, two

Check, one, two {*echoes*}

One, two

Check, one, two

One, two, who got more style, the son do {*echoes*}

{*explosion*}