No Idea's Original - Explicit Version Lyrics
| Song | No Idea's Original - Explicit Version |
| Artist | Nas |
| Album | Stillmatic |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Uhh, uhh | |
| Uhhh, uhhh, uhhh | |
| [Intro：repeat 2X] | |
| No idea's original, there's nothin new under the sun | |
| It's never what you do, but how it's done | |
| What you base your happiness around material, women, and large paper | |
| That means you inferior, not major | |
| [Nas] | |
| If niggaz could look inside my mind, you'll find | |
| where bodies are buried, first look past the hotties who dimes | |
| Go to the center, enter with caution, past the braincell graveyard | |
| where weed's responsible for memory loss | |
| Let's witness, the horrific, the stench'll make you nauseous | |
| See what I seen every day I live with this torture | |
| Lightin spliffs up to stay high like 24 hours | |
| Sleep with my heat, wash with my gun in the shower | |
| My tongue is power, it thrills women, kills demons | |
| Long as I'm still breathin I'm still winnin, I'll teach 'em | |
| The hood converted from trey bags to 20's a girl | |
| Everybody had money, every summer was real ill | |
| Four-finger rings, dope dealers, 'caine/Kane | |
| 'No Half Steppin'' with flat tops when Rakim reigned | |
| Radios on card tables, Benetton, the Gods buildin | |
| Ask for today's mathematics, we Allah's children | |
| And this was goin on in every New York ghetto | |
| Kids listened, Five Percenters said it's pork and Jell-o | |
| We coincide, we in the same life, maybe a time difference | |
| on a different coast, but we share the same sunlight | |
| Your part of the world, might be like colors and gangs | |
| While on my side, brothers'll murder for different things | |
| But it all revolve around drugs, fame and shorties | |
| Stuck for your bling, stripped for your chain, the same story | |
| From, Czechoslovakia to Texas metropolis | |
| Them, treacherous rocksters in the Mexican mafias | |
| Be scrappin with tats on they back, violent wars | |
| Nothin less than a lethal injection if ever caught | |
| Courtrooms, eagles and flags, American style | |
| While in our world, the ghetto stays incredibly foul | |
| Watchin for paint chips, don't want no led in yo' child | |
| But them gangstas put lead in yo' child, the bezzy be out | |
| The chain be like a hundred K | |
| Shinin since Roxanne Shante' made 'Runaway'; that's been a minute | |
| Genesis is deep, my features are that of a God | |
| It's not a facade it's a fact, these rappers wanna be Nas | |
| My Exodus doesn't exist | |
| I'll never leave the streets, it's all in my mind | |
| Even with sleep I'm duckin nines in my dreams | |
| Si-rens, wide awake, why'd I think it would change | |
| Can't hide when you famous or even try to do the same things like | |
| Somebody's always watchin, my life | |
| Before I, walk out the door I size up every option | |
| Eyes cut every direction, it's like God or guns | |
| Which is better protection? Can't decide, that's a hard one | |
| I mean they wanna see me in prison, the chains bamboozled | |
| Headline readin 'Rapper Slain From a Man Shootin' |
| Uhh, uhh | |
| Uhhh, uhhh, uhhh | |
| Intro: repeat 2X | |
| No idea' s original, there' s nothin new under the sun | |
| It' s never what you do, but how it' s done | |
| What you base your happiness around material, women, and large paper | |
| That means you inferior, not major | |
| Nas | |
| If niggaz could look inside my mind, you' ll find | |
| where bodies are buried, first look past the hotties who dimes | |
| Go to the center, enter with caution, past the braincell graveyard | |
| where weed' s responsible for memory loss | |
| Let' s witness, the horrific, the stench' ll make you nauseous | |
| See what I seen every day I live with this torture | |
| Lightin spliffs up to stay high like 24 hours | |
| Sleep with my heat, wash with my gun in the shower | |
| My tongue is power, it thrills women, kills demons | |
| Long as I' m still breathin I' m still winnin, I' ll teach ' em | |
| The hood converted from trey bags to 20' s a girl | |
| Everybody had money, every summer was real ill | |
| Fourfinger rings, dope dealers, ' caine Kane | |
| ' No Half Steppin'' with flat tops when Rakim reigned | |
| Radios on card tables, Benetton, the Gods buildin | |
| Ask for today' s mathematics, we Allah' s children | |
| And this was goin on in every New York ghetto | |
| Kids listened, Five Percenters said it' s pork and Jello | |
| We coincide, we in the same life, maybe a time difference | |
| on a different coast, but we share the same sunlight | |
| Your part of the world, might be like colors and gangs | |
| While on my side, brothers' ll murder for different things | |
| But it all revolve around drugs, fame and shorties | |
| Stuck for your bling, stripped for your chain, the same story | |
| From, Czechoslovakia to Texas metropolis | |
| Them, treacherous rocksters in the Mexican mafias | |
| Be scrappin with tats on they back, violent wars | |
| Nothin less than a lethal injection if ever caught | |
| Courtrooms, eagles and flags, American style | |
| While in our world, the ghetto stays incredibly foul | |
| Watchin for paint chips, don' t want no led in yo' child | |
| But them gangstas put lead in yo' child, the bezzy be out | |
| The chain be like a hundred K | |
| Shinin since Roxanne Shante' made ' Runaway' that' s been a minute | |
| Genesis is deep, my features are that of a God | |
| It' s not a facade it' s a fact, these rappers wanna be Nas | |
| My Exodus doesn' t exist | |
| I' ll never leave the streets, it' s all in my mind | |
| Even with sleep I' m duckin nines in my dreams | |
| Sirens, wide awake, why' d I think it would change | |
| Can' t hide when you famous or even try to do the same things like | |
| Somebody' s always watchin, my life | |
| Before I, walk out the door I size up every option | |
| Eyes cut every direction, it' s like God or guns | |
| Which is better protection? Can' t decide, that' s a hard one | |
| I mean they wanna see me in prison, the chains bamboozled | |
| Headline readin ' Rapper Slain From a Man Shootin' |
| Uhh, uhh | |
| Uhhh, uhhh, uhhh | |
| Intro: repeat 2X | |
| No idea' s original, there' s nothin new under the sun | |
| It' s never what you do, but how it' s done | |
| What you base your happiness around material, women, and large paper | |
| That means you inferior, not major | |
| Nas | |
| If niggaz could look inside my mind, you' ll find | |
| where bodies are buried, first look past the hotties who dimes | |
| Go to the center, enter with caution, past the braincell graveyard | |
| where weed' s responsible for memory loss | |
| Let' s witness, the horrific, the stench' ll make you nauseous | |
| See what I seen every day I live with this torture | |
| Lightin spliffs up to stay high like 24 hours | |
| Sleep with my heat, wash with my gun in the shower | |
| My tongue is power, it thrills women, kills demons | |
| Long as I' m still breathin I' m still winnin, I' ll teach ' em | |
| The hood converted from trey bags to 20' s a girl | |
| Everybody had money, every summer was real ill | |
| Fourfinger rings, dope dealers, ' caine Kane | |
| ' No Half Steppin'' with flat tops when Rakim reigned | |
| Radios on card tables, Benetton, the Gods buildin | |
| Ask for today' s mathematics, we Allah' s children | |
| And this was goin on in every New York ghetto | |
| Kids listened, Five Percenters said it' s pork and Jello | |
| We coincide, we in the same life, maybe a time difference | |
| on a different coast, but we share the same sunlight | |
| Your part of the world, might be like colors and gangs | |
| While on my side, brothers' ll murder for different things | |
| But it all revolve around drugs, fame and shorties | |
| Stuck for your bling, stripped for your chain, the same story | |
| From, Czechoslovakia to Texas metropolis | |
| Them, treacherous rocksters in the Mexican mafias | |
| Be scrappin with tats on they back, violent wars | |
| Nothin less than a lethal injection if ever caught | |
| Courtrooms, eagles and flags, American style | |
| While in our world, the ghetto stays incredibly foul | |
| Watchin for paint chips, don' t want no led in yo' child | |
| But them gangstas put lead in yo' child, the bezzy be out | |
| The chain be like a hundred K | |
| Shinin since Roxanne Shante' made ' Runaway' that' s been a minute | |
| Genesis is deep, my features are that of a God | |
| It' s not a facade it' s a fact, these rappers wanna be Nas | |
| My Exodus doesn' t exist | |
| I' ll never leave the streets, it' s all in my mind | |
| Even with sleep I' m duckin nines in my dreams | |
| Sirens, wide awake, why' d I think it would change | |
| Can' t hide when you famous or even try to do the same things like | |
| Somebody' s always watchin, my life | |
| Before I, walk out the door I size up every option | |
| Eyes cut every direction, it' s like God or guns | |
| Which is better protection? Can' t decide, that' s a hard one | |
| I mean they wanna see me in prison, the chains bamboozled | |
| Headline readin ' Rapper Slain From a Man Shootin' |
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