"The Message" is a song by American rapper Nas, the second track from his sophomore album It Was Written (1996). Produced by the Trackmasters, the song samples "Shape of My Heart" by Sting, "Impeach the President" by The Honey Drippers ('70s Funk), "Halftime" and "N.Y. State of Mind" by Nas.
"The Message" was inspired by his position in the game, where rap was on the rise and there were many lyrical artists, battles, and crews. Nas added, "Crews back then wasn't only popping bottles, they was popping pistols too. I hadn't really been shot [like I say in the song] but everyone else around me, so I was their voice. There was a moment where it wasn't just about being a fly guy with money, it was, 'I'm still in the streets, I still got one foot in the streets.' We were all gunning for that position or gunning people off of us trying to take our position."[1]
The track also gained the attention of Tupac "2Pac" Shakur, who mistakenly interpreted some lyrics to be a diss towards him. It resulted in a brief feud, but was resolved before Shakur's death. While there was promise to remove any disses towards Nas in his future music, Shakur was fatally shot before any changes could be made.
Background[]
Tone of Trackmasters revealed he was watching Léon: The Professional (1994) and in the credits, heard Sting's "Shape of My Heart," which made him race to the record store, find the artist, and chopped the beat. When he presented his work at one of the studio sessions, Nas was intrigued by the intro. When the drums came in, Nas came up with the bars. The emcee noted that Jay-Z actually inspired a line, where he "saw Jay-Z driving a Lexus with the TVs in it. I got rid of my Lexus at that point and I was looking for the next best thing. So that line— 'Lex with TV sets, the minimum'—wasn't a shot at Jay but he inspired that line."[1]
Personnel[]
- Anthony "AZ" Cruz – additional vocals
- David "Kid Capri" Love, Jr. – percussion, scratches
- Nasir "Nas" Jones – lead artist, vocals, writer
- Rich Travali – mixer
- Samuel "Tone"Barnes – writer
- Tom Coyne – masterer
- Trackmasters – producer, mixer, keyboards, drums
Lyrics[]
[Verse 1]
Fake thug, no love, you get the slug
CB4 Gusto, your luck low, I didn't know 'til I was drunk though
You freak n*ggas 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, jump out the Range, empty out the ashtray
A glass of 'Zé make a man Cassius Clay
Red dot plots, murder schemes, 32 shotguns
Regulate with my thuns, 17 rocks gleam from one ring
Then let me let y'all n*ggas know one thing
There's one life, one love, so there can only be one King
The highlights of livin', Vegas-style, roll dice in linen
Antera spinnin' on Millenniums
20G bets I'm winnin' 'em, threats I'm sendin' 'em
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, chickenheads flock, I lace 'em
Fried, broiled with basil, taste 'em
Crack they legs way out of formation
It's horizontal how I have 'em fuckin' me in the Benz wagon
Can it be Vanity from Last Dragon? Grab your gun, it's on though
Shit is grimy, real n*ggas 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
[Refrain]
I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
[Verse 2]
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' about how you ran the Island in '89
Layin' up, playin' the yard with crazy shine
I cocked the baby 9, that n*gga gravy mine, clanked him
What was he thinkin' on my corner when it's pay-me time?
Dug 'em, you owe me, cousin, somethin' 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, askin' me my name, what the fuck?
I got stitched up, it 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 watchin', all he seen speed by was a brown Datsun
And yo, nobody in my hood got one
That clown n*gga'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 in project halls
Contemplatin' war, n*ggas I was cool with before
We used to score together Uptown, coppin' the raw
But, uh—a thug changes, and love changes
And best friends become strangers (Word up)
[Refrain 2]
Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
Ther–Ther–Ther–Ther–There ain't an army that could strike back
Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
Ther–Ther–Ther–Ther–There ain't an army that could strike back
Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
Ther–Ther–Ther–There ain't an army that could strike back
Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
There ain't an army that could strike back
[Outro: Nas & (AZ)]
Thug n*ggas
Yo, to them thug n*ggas gettin' it on in the world, you know?
To them n*ggas that's locked down
Doin' they thing, survivin', ya know'm sayin'?
To my thorough n*ggas, New York and worldwide
Yo, to the Queensbridge Militia
'96 shit, The Firm clique
Illmatic, n*gga, It Was Written though
It's been a long time comin'
Y'all fake n*ggas, tryin' to copy
Better come with the real though, fake-ass n*ggas, yo
(They throw us slugs, we throwin' them back, what)
Bring the shit, man! Live, man!
(Fuck that, son, word up) '96 shit
References[]
- ↑ 1.0 1.1 Kenner, Rob and Ahmed, Insanul (July 2, 2016). "The Making of Nas' 'It Was Written'". Complex.
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