מילים לשיר Disciple – Nas

Nas "TwoL.E.S."Prophesy baby!"
L.E.S."Prophesy!"
Nas "Yeah." (Disciple, Disciple (What?!) Disciple (STREET'S!)
Disciple (STREET'S!)
Disciple (STREET'S!)
Disciple (STREET'S!)
Disciple (STREET'S!)
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Disciple (Let's go!) (Verse 1: Nas)
Word to mama, any lineup of rhymers
Could bring any drama, anytime, the city's mine
Nas Is Like, Love Undying, Money's My Bitch
Pharaoh garment's Prada, Egyptian camelbackPyramid architects, Perignon bottles, money, jewelry want me to come
Get me, hit me but don't miss me, you history
In Thugz Mansion, thugs dancin' around the fly shit
Lead flowin' around like a Frisbee, Italian dons from Sicily kiss me
This ain't 50, this ain't Jigga, this ain't Diddy, this ain't Pretty
Pain, power, pussy and pistols, lyrically no one, hold none near me, hear me
Kids cheer me like The Count of MonteSteady poundin' soundin' like G without the lisp though
My big bro told me plain and simple, "Nas do not look back"
Watch where you took rap, no bookbags and trucker hats
Just army jacks and diamonds that's flashin'
What the fuck is that, freestyle (Disciple, Disciple (STREET'S!)
Disciple (STREET'S!)
Disciple (STREET'S!)
Disciple (STREET'S!)
Disciple (STREET'S!)
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Disciple (Esco!)
(Verse 2: Nas) Phillip, Simon and Judas Like Paul, Michael and Matthew, Peter, James and Andrew
Inside the life of the greatest, it'll take you through something real
Street beats is the main thing minus the traitor
And I'm not a dictator, I'm the righteous invitin' you haters
Bust shells, destroy yet try'ta prevent violence
Get a smack in your face, 'cause I hurt up, traumaIf I present iron somebody dyin', don't even worry 'bout it
Then dress warm for the cemetery climate
When I speak I need cemetery silence, terror
See me, gold Hummers, Lamborghinis, man who stole the summer
Hand straight gleamin', if I don't know you toeDrag you through the cement, foBody parts in my man's Maserati car, then party hard in Madagascar
While rigor mortis'll grab ya, him retarded, I'm pass that
All the thugs gone, what happened? Where's the passion?
Gloves on, where the mask at? Too many love songs
Rappers battlin' nonLaughin' sayin' Nas thinks he's Farrakhan preachin' blackness
Hell yeah, awareness is my alias
Word to the 'Braveheart' written on my bare chest
The realest, HERE IT IS! (Disciple (STREET'S!)
Disciple, Disciple (STREET'S!)
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Disciple (STREET'S!)
Disciple (STREET'S!)
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Disciple (Street's!)
Disciple (Street's!)
Disciple (Esco!).