NAS - Thief's Theme lyrics

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    NAS LYRICS
    
    "Thief's Theme"
    [Intro]
    One, two
    Check, one, two
    One, two, who got more style, the son do
    [rewind]
    One, two
    Check, one, two
    One, two, who got more style, the son do
    Check, one, two
    
    [Verse 1]
    Yo I'm hot like 95 Fahrenheit
    On a summer night, tight spot where bodies rot
    Rats drink from water drops, in the streets niggaz
    Little kids scared cops, wit red dots
    Philosophical gangsta, where violent priors
    Goin back like black and white TV's wit pliers
    Leanin on broke down cars, wit flat tires
    Flash iron, or anybody tryin on the blocks I'm supplyin on
    Mighty call, my peeps, tie ballons up
    And swallow 'em and the penal got goons, lots of 'em
    Cops see them and run, don't want no drama
    Certain parts of the streets, the beast don't want a part of
    Mortar, hood haunted like the Dakota
    Where John Lennon was shot up, but he sang for peace
    He begged for freedom, hanged wit wild Jamicians
    From Kingston, who drink Irish Moss
    Listenin to Peter Winston, Machintosh
    Lightning hits the top of the church steeple
    When I'm writin, semi-automatic no hyphen
    It's frightening.... [scratches]
    
    [Chorus]
    The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
    Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
    The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
    Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
    The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
    Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
    The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
    Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move wit
    
    [Verse 2]
    I take summers off, cause I love winter beef
    Started '87, wit the shotty in the sheet
    Three-quarter length beige, dressed to kill
    Bust a shell at the ground, pellets hit the crowd
    Nobody like a snitch, everybody shut they mouth
    Rule which car heart, gun powder stains
    Smellin like trees, set some mill on the brain
    Skeemin on ya girls, bamboozled on ya chain
    Got ill up on the train, twistin off a cap
    Of a English in my vain, might of pushed you on the tracks
    Death crack fiends, who can't speak, scream noises
    Cause you bought a drummer sooked, from one of my boys, it's
    .... Just another day in the hood
    And I'm, wit some wild brothers, up to no good
    We saw the movies, like Tony Montana, and 'em
    But our style was let them piled in, we robbin 'em
    Money dudes, make 'em come up out they shoes
    Run they jewels, word is bond, where my man Nino goin
    And I had to make a song, speakin on my old life
    For the thief's who come out at night
    
    [Chorus]
    
    [Outro]
    One, two
    Check, one, two [echoes]
    One, two
    Check, one, two
    One, two, who got more style, the son do [echoes]
    [explosion]
    
    
    [Thanks to logo4life@hotmail.com for correcting these lyrics]

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