Y'all know what it is
The streets named me Illmatic, for that I'm still at it
Can't hate us
Fellas

Vice behind me on the intersection
Sex and drugs, my anthology on perfection
Dress superb, admired by conspirers
Who wanna try me, but ain't high enough to four-five me up
Child of the eighties, y'all n***as is lazy
Complain about labour pains, n***a show me the baby
And my n***a Game, light another L, pass the bottle
Pro-black, I don't take cotton out of aspirin bottles
Yeah, I learnt my lessons, and heard y'all snitchin'
Witnessin' you rockin' with Nas, confirmed my suspicion
Green fatigues on, My n***as I bleed for 'em
I can show 'em the water, but can't make 'em drink it
And I can show 'em my fortunes but can't force 'em to think rich
And still I don't abort 'em ? when and if they sink quick
Ignore the ignorance, I rep the brilliance of Queensbridge
And pray to fans, let Murder Inc. live

I don't talk about my guns, n***a I just blaze

'Pac is watchin', Big is listenin'
While Pun talkin' to us, Jam Jay still spinnin'
To every n***a listenin'
I was supposed to be amongst kings, my Mom shouted out at my Christening
And while you still listenin', Shyne locked in a man hole
Cam got shot inside his lambo', sample, life is a gamble
15 years old red rag around my hand, My sisters used to laugh and call me 'Rambo'
Seen Eazy's legacy melt away like a candle
I rekindled the flame
Dre created The Game
N***a with an attitude from the cloth I came
Young homie ate his way up from the bottom of the food chain
Keep the crown, clown, I rock an LA Dodger Fitted
I showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was down with it
Now the ball's in my court, never dribble out of bounds with it
Behind the back to Nas, he alley oop to Jigga, n***a
Me and nasty puffin', this a classic, trust me
How you gon' pass the dutchie ? to them n***as that don't love me
I'm talkin' n***as that never wanted to see me on top
Same n***as that never wanted to see the Doctor's Advocate drop, flop, I think not
I'll fuck you rap n***as like virgins
Dre took my training wheels off his curtains
I don't need no encore, no claps, no cheers
The Game ain't over, this the beginning of my career
The ending of yours, the endin' of his
Like Flavor Flav's clock, I'm back to handle my biz
N***a, it's Game Time, that was Dre's favorite line
Back when proof was in the booth and I recited his lines
And I still think about my n***a from time to time
Make me wanna call 50, and let him know what's on my mind
But I just hold back 'cause we ain't beefin' like that
He ain't Big, and I ain't Pac, and we just eatin' off rap
One love

I'll do Marsha's bit if you want, but it seems kinda pointless
I thought Nas was on point with his multis, the cotton line is a bit old though