Before a blunt, I take out my fronts
 Then I start to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
 You couldn't catch me in the streets without a ton of reefer
 That's like Malcolm X, catchin the Jungle Fever
 King poetic, too much flavor, I'm major
 Atlanta ain't Brave-r, I'll pull a number like a pager
 Cause I'm am ace when I face the bass
 40-side is the place that is giving me grace
 Now wait, another dose and you might be dead
 And I'm a Nike head, I wear chains that excite the feds
 And ain't a [bad word] thing gonna change
 I'ma performer (?) show the mic warmer was born to gain
 Nas, why did you do it?
 You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's halftime

 (Right..) It's halftime
 (Right..) Aiyyo it's halftime
 (Right..) It's halftime
 (Right..) Yeah, it's about halftime
 This is how it feel, check it out, how it feel

 It's like that, you know it's like that
 I got it hemmed, now you never get the mic back
 When I attack, there ain't an army that could strike back
 So I react never calmly on a hype track
 I set it off with my own rhyme
 Cause I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time
 I'm max like cassettes, I flex like 
 in your stereo sets, Nas will catch wreck
 I used to hustle, now all I do is relax and strive
 When I was young, I was a fan of the Jackson 5
 I drop jewels, wear jewels, hope to [bad word] it
 With more kicks than a baby in a mother's stomach
 Nasty Nas has to rise cause I'm wise
 This is exercise 'til the microphone dies
 Back in eighty-three I was an MC sparking
 But I was too scared to grab the mic's in the park and
 kick my little raps cause I thought niggaz wouldn't understand
 And now in every jam I'm the [bad word] man
 I rap in front of more niggaz than in the slave ships
 I used to watch C.H.I.P.S., now I load glock clips
 I got to have it, I miss Mr. Magic
 Versatile, my style switches like a [bad word]  But not biual, I'm an intellectual
 Of rap, I'm a professional and that's no question, yo
 These are the lyrics of the man, you can't near it, understand
 Cuz in the streets, I'm well known like the number man
 In my place wit the bass and format
 Explore rap, and tell me Nas ain't all that
 And next time I rhyme, I be foul
 Whenever I freestyle I see trial niggaz say I'm wow
 I hate a rhymebiter's rhyme
 Stay tuned, Nas, soon the real [bad word] at halftime

 (Right..) It's halftime
 (Right..) Exhale, check it it's halftime
 (Right..) It's halftime
 (Right..) It's real in the field
 Word life, check it

 I got it goin on, even flip 'em on this song
 Every afternoon, I kick half the tune
 And in the darkness, I'm heartless like when the NARCs hit
 Word to Marcus Garvey I hardly sparked it
 Cause when I blast the herb, that's my word
 I be slayin them fast, doing this that and the third
 But chill, past to Andre, and let's slay
 I bag [bad word] up at John Jay, and hit a matinee
 Puttin hits on 5-0
 Csudr when it's my time to go, I wait for God wit the fo'-fo'
 And biters [bad word] near
 And yo, go to [bad word] to the foul cop who shot Garcia
 I won't plant seeds, don't need an extra mouth I can't feed
 That's extra Phillie change, more cash for that weed
 This goes out to Manhattan, the island of Staten
 Brooklyn and Queens is livin fat and
 The Boogie Down, enough props, enough clout
 Ill Will, rest in peace, yo, I'm out

 (Right..) It's still halftime
 (Right..) To the Queensbridge crew
 To the Queensbridge crew, you know it's halftime
 (Right..) Ninety-two, it's halftime
 (Right..) Yo police, police man, yo let's get ghost