Nymp Lyrics - Vol. 3: The Life & Times Of St. Carter - Jay-z

Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh 

This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz 

Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive 

Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course 

through the potholes and gravel 

Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough 

Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code 

Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul 

Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle 

(bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you 

Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz 

after you, up the avenue 

Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do 

Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool 

I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two 

Up against the wall, tryin to pass through 

Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls 

Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like 

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Chorus: Jay-Z 

N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz 

N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz 

Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest 

Marcy. Brooklyn. 

Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties 

Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny 

Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me 

Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM 

I'm so confrontational; 

they shoulda never let me go on probation yo 

I'm a hustler; except that. 

no correctional facilities can correct that 

I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at 

It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that 

Gotta get away, some try but head back 

Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back 

Some died, they left stacks 

Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice 

Jigga been cold as fuck before ice 

Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time 

Get your mind right niggaz 

Photos 

Chorus: Jay-Z 

N.Y.M.P., the realest 

Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz 

Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz 

Marcy. feel me. 

I looked Death in the face years back 

I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back 

I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live 

You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give 

I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him? 

Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham 

Still I still pop him 

Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now 

I think big when I spit at you now 

Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha 

Between life and death, they killed my spirit 

So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball 

I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause 

cause I used to roam them halls 

Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college 

Who woulda thought I'd make it "Big" like Ms. Wallace? 

Chorus: Jay-Z 

Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz 

Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz 

Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz 

Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me 

Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz 

This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project 

Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz 

Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds 

Fuck with me