Nas
It’s Yours
[Verse 1: Afu-Ra]
Verse one, verse two
I practice tae kwon do, nut-fu, and voodoo
See me, you ain't got to feel me, just believe me
Riff raffs, I give you the heebie-jeebies
You be a memory just like The Bee Gees
Snap that neck blues, just like you're Stevie
Wonder man, you been wonderin'
How I can whirlwind around the earth and bring the thunder in
Rain, hail, sleet, and snow
Yo, I catch fire like phosphorus
While I stomp these streets, I'm a hip hop colossus
I'll need no brass knuckles for n***as, I've got this
Won't you pass me a mic so I can rock this
Now just listen to the rhyme and jot this
I came in the game wipin' up the corner
Everybody don't step up, they be a goner
Smoke emcees like Dutch Masters
Hit it faster, give me the mic, I bless you like a pastor
I'm on top of my game, I drive you insane
Take the wildest beat and make the shit seem tame
Nowadays, you either hot or you lame
I be the type of cat that straight hits your brain
The mathematical, El Lyrical
I be the type of emcee to burn you up with syllables
[Chorus: Nas & Afu-Ra]
Like that, you know it's like that
When I attack there ain't an army that can strike back
It's yours!
Would you want it? Would you want it?
If I had it would you want it? Well it's yours

[Verse 2: Afu-Ra]
I'm the illest spitter ever to get it, ever to fit in
I grabbin' a mic or I can hit you with a smidgen
What? Who I am? Check it out, who I be
I bow to the crowd who fiend for my energy
Rhymes so accurate, raps I smack you with
I drop down to the earth so I can practice
Wordplay, spit it for flying guillotines
Multiple blows, multiple foes
Poisonous backflips, go ahead and catch a bloody nose
No one knows I strike when the wind blows
Spit venom, drink gas, breathe fire
No one's higher, go ahead and burn in the fire
Emcees trying to step up and be the sire
I had to let you know I got a son named Zia
Stick your neck out, your head done roll like a tire
Afu-Ra take it higher and higher
I'm the type of cat that someday you gonna read about
Spit that ill shit over the track 'til I bleed from my mouth
Dissecting your rap connection
Afu-Ra, yo, it's motherfucking chin checkin'
So if you want to test your god
Satan hits you with a style that'll make you retarded
[Chorus: Nas & Afu-Ra]
Like that, you know it's like that
When I attack there ain't an army that can strike back
It's yours!
Would you want it? Would you want it?
If I had it would you want it? Well it's yours