The Message
The Message

Nas - The Message Lyrics

This lyrical masterpiece is a gritty and raw narrative of the trials and tribulations of street life. Nas, like an urban poet laureate, paints a vivid picture of his experiences with betrayal, violence, and survival in the concrete jungle. The song is… Read more

Hip-Hop/Rap
Jul 1, 1996
458
The Message Music Video

The Message Lyrics

Fake thug, no love, you get the slug, CB4 Gusto
Your luck low, I didn't know 'til I was drunk though
You freak niggas played out, get fucked and ate out
Prostitute turned bitch, I got the gauge out
96 ways I made out, Montana way
The Good-F-E-L-L-A, verbal AK spray
Dipped attache, jumped out the Range, empty out the ashtray
A glass of 'Ze make a man Cassius Clay
Red dot plots, murder schemes, thirty-two shotguns
Regulate with my dunn's, 17 rocks gleam from one ring
They let me let y'all niggas know one thing
There's one life, one love, so there can only be one King
The highlights of living, Vegas style roll dice in linen
Antera spinning on milleniums, twenty G bets I'm winning them
Threats I'm sending them, Lex with TV sets the minimum
Ill sex adrenaline
Party with villains, a case of Demi-Sec to chase the Henny
Wet any clique, with the semi TEC who want it?
Diamonds I flaunt it, chicken-heads flock I lace 'em
Fried broiled with basil, taste 'em, crack the legs
Way out of formation, it's horizontal how I have 'em
Fucking me in the Benz wagon
Can it be Vanity from Last Dragon?
Grab your gun it's on though
Shit is grimy, real niggas buck in broad daylight
With the broke MAC it won't spray right
Don't give a fuck who they hit, as long as the drama's lit
Yo, overnight thugs, bug 'cause they ain't promised shit
Hungry-ass hooligans stay on that piranha shit

(I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death)
(I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testing)
(I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death)
(I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testing)
(I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death)
(I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testing)
(I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death)
(I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testing)

I peeped you frontin', I was in the Jeep
Sunk in the seat, tinted with heat, beats bumpin'
Across the street you was wildin'
Talkin' 'bout how you ran the Island in '89
Layin' up, playin' the yard with crazy shine
I cocked a baby 9 that nigga grave be mine, clanked him
What was he thinking on my corner when it's pay me time?
Dug 'em, you owe me cousin, something told me plug him
So dumb, felt my leg burn, then it got numb
Spun around and shot one, heard shots and dropped son
Caught a hot one, somebody take this biscuit 'fore the cops come
Then they came asking me my name, what the fuck
I got stitched up and went through
Left the hospital that same night, what
Got my gat back, time to backtrack
I had the drop so how the fuck I get clapped?
Black was in the Jeep watching all these scenes speed by
It was a brown Datsun, and yo nobody in my hood got one
That clown nigga's through, blazin' at his crew daily
The 'Bridge touched me up severely, hear me?
So when I rhyme it's sincerely yours
Be lightin' L's sippin' Coors, on all floors of project halls
Contemplatin' war niggas I was cool with before
We used to score together, Uptown copping the raw
But uh, a thug changes, and love changes
And best friends become strangers, word up

(Y'all know my steelo)
(There ain't an army that could strike back)
(Y'all know my steelo)
(There ain't an army that could strike back)
(Y'all know my steelo)
(There ain't an army that could strike back)
(Y'all know my steelo)
(There ain't an army that could strike back)

Thug niggas, yo, to them thug niggas
Gettin' it on in the world, you know?
To them niggas that's locked down
Doin' they thing, survivin', ya know'm sayin'?
To my thorough niggas, New York and worldwide
Yo, to the Queensbridge Militia, yo
'96 shit, The Firm clique
Illmatic, nigga, It Was Written though
It's been a long time comin'
Y'all fake niggas, tryna copy
Better come with the real though
Fake-ass niggas, yo
(They throw us slugs, we throwin' them back, what)
Bring the shit, man, live, man
(Fuck that son, word up) '96 shit

Writer(s): Nasir Jones, Dominic James Miller, Gordon Matthew Sumner, Samuel J. Barnes, Jean Claude Olivier
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Sentric Music, Downtown Music Publishing, Songtrust Ave, Cloud9
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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What is the Meaning of The Message?

This lyrical masterpiece is a gritty and raw narrative of the trials and tribulations of street life. Nas, like an urban poet laureate, paints a vivid picture of his experiences with betrayal, violence, and survival in the concrete jungle. The song is essentially a cautionary tale - "I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death" - warning listeners about the dangers lurking in the shadows. Yet, amidst this chaos, Nas also explores how friendships can morph into enmities within such volatile environments - "a thug changes, and love changes." This lyrical journey offers us a glimpse into Nas's world where every day is a battle for survival. So strap on your seatbelts folks; it's going to be one heck of a ride! 🎢

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