Illmatic

[Intro] You-you, you You-you, you, you, you, you You, you-you You-you, you, you, you, you You-you, you, you, you, you You, you-you You-you, you, you, you, you Warm it up, warm it up Warm it up, warm it up, warm it up Warm it up, warm it up Warm it up, warm it up, warm it up [Verse 1: Logic as Young Sinatra] It's that Young Sinatra shit, yeah, that's that Young Sinatra shit Shut the fuck up and listen whenever Young Sinatra spit Yeah, your girl fine as hell but she a Young Sinatra chick Hey Bobby, how can you tell? She on the Young Sinatra dick All these rappers wack as fuck, make the Young Sinatra sick RattPack be the squad, that's that Young Sinatra clique Goddamn, said this the Young Sinatra clique, goddamn! Listen, yeah-I’m visualizing the realism of life in actuality Step to me, fatality; yeah, this shit is my galaxy I am who the baddest be, I'd rather be at the academy Killers, I'm be glad to be me, magnify the shit like bifocal Motherfuckers talk on the internet, but in person they never vocal Come to the hood and fuck you up if you prefer to be local I'm loco from Noho to Soho Gettin' cheese like a photo, you know, ho I'm blessed like Sunday, flyer than a runway Lil' Bobby never second-guessed that he gon' make it one day One-way or another, my brother, word to your mother They should give me a badge 'cause I'm always under covers Goddamn! I'm a miraculous man! You know I get, I get it, I get it, I get it The Young Sinatra spit it, rewind it, and rip it I could murder your whole album with a 30-second snippet Pass the Mary Jane like I'm runnin' a train with Peter Parker On tour, I have more sex in the city than Sarah Jessica Parker The deeper and deeper I go, it get darker They say they want the old me, they want the Young Sinatra back The one that murder it, rip it up, no, never givin' up 'round the almanac Yeah, I'm all of that, fall back, like September again Bashin' these rappers so hard they won't remember again When it comes to hip-hop, bitch, I'm indigenous to this It's apparent I'm bearin' down like a parent When the beef is at stake, I'm Mastro's My god-level lyricism surpass flows, I'm much more than fast flows Money, talk, cash knows, greatest of levels-I've passed those [Chorus: Logic as Bobby Tarantino] Fuck that rap shit, this that trap shit (Bobby!) This world is my contraption (Bobby!) I was born and raised in the trap, son (Bobby!) Talk shit, get kidnapped, son (Bobby!) I don't really know why I rap, son (ay!) Money in the bank, yeah, I got some (ay!) Couple sports cars, yeah, I bought some (ay!) Logic never flex, Bobby get it done! (ay!) Yeah, y'all don't really know where I come from (come now) Talkin' that shit, I'ma come for 'em (what's good?) Tell me what you really know about me right now Anything I want, I get it somehow [Verse 2: Logic as Young Sinatra] Fuck that trap shit, this that rap shit Give me the head like John the Baptist Ready to rip it, I hope in the captives Greatest alive like I'm Cassius I put 'em all in they caskets, they can't seem to get past it I'm a bastard that mastered the flow And none of y'all ready for the massacre, though Fuck with Logic? Yeah, that's a no Matter of fact, it's not impossible, just highly improbable Like, saying the police isn't robbable But I'm liable to walk up in the station in blue-face Like, "Fuck the police!"-Blue lives ain't a race Fuck whoever said this rap shit was never a race This shit a marathon Murder you motherfuckers and carry on Claimin' that you really 'bout this shit You got your Jim Carrey on- Liar Liar; I might crucify ya Number one till I die, will never retire I am the Messiah, I am the god of this shit This is how we do it-yeah, I started this shit Yes, I started this shit like- [Chorus: Logic as Bobby Tarantino] Fuck that rap shit, this that trap shit (Bobby!) This world is my contraption (Bobby!) I was born and raised in the trap, son (Bobby!) Talk shit, get kidnapped, son (Bobby!) I don't really know why I rap, son (ay!) Money in the bank, yeah, I got some (ay!) Couple sports cars, yeah, I bought some (ay!) Logic never flex, Bobby get it done! (ay!) Yeah, y'all don't really know where I come from (come now) Talkin' that shit, I'ma come for 'em (what's good?) Tell me what you really know about me right now Anything I want, I get it somehow [Outro] You-you, you You-you, you, you, you, you You, you-you You-you, you, you, you, you You-you, you, you, you, you You, you-you You-you, you, you, you, you

👏

Nas was God on this track.

I wrote a comment late, I was looking for beatmakers and so you made tostitos instrumental from hooligan chase, can you make an instrumental on powerpuff

GOT DAMN! Nas went in!

36 Chambers..Shaolin and Rza beats 1990s wasn't ready for this shit!!

Always be my favorite male rap group 😎 🔥🔥

has a tinny sound, no bass but decent

3:17

Where is the trap section?

This beat goated

You, you Warm it up, warm it up Warm it up, warm it up, warm it up Warm it up, warm it up Warm it up, warm it up, warm it up This that Young Sinatra shit, yeah this that Young Sinatra shit Shut the fuck up and listen whenever your Sinatra spit Yeah your girl as fine as hell but she a Young Sinatra chick Hey Bobby how can you tell? She on a Young Sinatra dick All these rappers wack as fuck, make the Young Sinatra sick RattPack be the squad, that's that Young Sinatra clique God damn, this the Young Sinatra clique, God damn Listen, yeah, I'm visualizing the realism in my life and actuality Stuck to me fatality yeah this shit is my galaxy I am who the baddest be I'd rather be at academy Killers be glad to be me Magnify the shit like bifocal Motherfuckers talk on the internet but in person they never vocal Come to the hood and fuck you up if you prefer to be local I'm local, from Noho, to Soho, Getting G's like I'm Frodo, you know ho I'm Blessed like Sunday, flyer than a runway Little Bobby never second guess that he goin' make it one day One wake, or another my brother word to your mother They should give me a badge cuz I'm always under-covers God damn I'm a miraculous man You know I get, I get it, I get it, I get it They turn out to spit it, rewind it and rip it I can murder your whole album with a 30 second snippet Pass the Mary Jane like I'm running a train with Peter Parker Until I have more sex in the city than Jessica Parker The deeper and deeper I go it get darker They say the want the old me, the want the Young Sinatra back The one that murder it, rip it up Never gonna give it up around an almanac Yeah I'm all of that, fall back, like September again Basking these rappers so hard that they won't remember again When it comes to Hip Hop, bitch I'm indigenous to this This apparent, I'm barring down like a parent When the beef is at steak, I'm Astros My god level lyricism surpass flows I'm much more than fast flows, Money talk cash flows, Great as the numbers at past shows Fuck that rap shit this that trap shit (Bobby) This world is my contraption (Bobby) I was born and raised in the trap son (Bobby) Talk shit get kidnapped son (Bobby) I don't really know why I rap son (ayy) Money in the bank, yeah I got some (ayy) Couple sports cars yeah I bought some (ayy) Thought you never flex Bobby get it done (ayy) Y'all don't really know where I come from Talking that shit, I'm a come for it (what's good) Tell me what you really know about me right now Everything I want I get it somehow Fuck that trap shit this that rap shit Give me the hand like John the Baptist Ready to whip it I hoove in the catcher Greatest alive like I'm Cassius I put 'em all in they caskets They can't see me get past this I'm a bastard that mastered the flow and none of y'all ready for this massacre though Fuck what Logic had absent though Matter of fact it's not impossible but highly improbable like Saying the police isn't robbable But I'm liable to walk up into a station in blue face Like fuck the police! Blue lives ain't a race Fuck whoever said this rap shit was never a race This shit a marathon Murder you motherfuckers and carry on Claiming that you really 'bout ya shit You got your Jim Carrey on, "Liar liar" I might crucify ya Number one 'til I die Will never retire I am the Messiah I am the God of this shit This is how we do it Yeah I started this shit, yes I started this shit like Fuck that rap shit this that trap shit (Bobby) This world is my contraption (Bobby) I was born and raised in the trap son (Bobby) Talk shit get kidnapped son (Bobby) I don't really know why I rap son (ayy) Money in the bank, yeah I got some (ayy) Couple sports cars yeah I bought some (ayy) Thought you never flex Bobby get it done (ayy) Y'all don't really know where I come from Talking that shit, I'm a come for it (what's good) Tell me what you really know about me right now Everything I want I get it somehow Traducir al español

best shooter games man

From making verses to wu tang and nas making a tour featuring busta rhymes

*3:13*

0:28 0:28 0:28 0:28

Damn man, sounds clean af. Is there any chance you could do a tutorial vid on how to master the different sounds?

Oh shit

How is this the version on only 12k views 😳 💯💯💯

Do Eminem too please 👍🏾

You forgot the bass but other than that its good

I don't wanna be that guy but Wii stick makes it so hard to control mario in tight spaces like in the last area where you have to dodge hammers and boomerangs

Wu Tang !!!!.... New York city 💪😎

wheres the beat switch part...

You, you Warm it up, warm it up Warm it up, warm it up, warm it up Warm it up, warm it up Warm it up, warm it up, warm it up This that Young Sinatra shit, yeah this that Young Sinatra shit Shut the fuck up and listen whenever your Sinatra spit Yeah your girl as fine as hell but she a Young Sinatra chick Hey Bobby how can you tell? She on a Young Sinatra dick All these rappers wack as fuck, make the Young Sinatra sick RattPack be the squad, that's that Young Sinatra clique God damn, this the Young Sinatra clique, God damn Listen, yeah, I'm visualizing the realism in my life and actuality Stuck to me fatality yeah this shit is my galaxy I am who the baddest be I'd rather be at academy Killers be glad to be me Magnify the shit like bifocal Motherfuckers talk on the internet but in person they never vocal Come to the hood and fuck you up if you prefer to be local I'm local, from Noho, to Soho, Getting G's like I'm Frodo, you know ho I'm Blessed like Sunday, flyer than a runway Little Bobby never second guess that he goin' make it one day One wake, or another my brother word to your mother They should give me a badge cuz I'm always under-covers God damn I'm a miraculous man You know I get, I get it, I get it, I get it They turn out to spit it, rewind it and rip it I can murder your whole album with a 30 second snippet Pass the Mary Jane like I'm running a train with Peter Parker Until I have more sex in the city than Jessica Parker The deeper and deeper I go it get darker They say the want the old me, the want the Young Sinatra back The one that murder it, rip it up Never gonna give it up around an almanac Yeah I'm all of that, fall back, like September again Basking these rappers so hard that they won't remember again When it comes to Hip Hop, bitch I'm indigenous to this This apparent, I'm barring down like a parent When the beef is at steak, I'm Astros My god level lyricism surpass flows I'm much more than fast flows, Money talk cash flows, Great as the numbers at past shows Fuck that rap shit this that trap shit (Bobby) This world is my contraption (Bobby) I was born and raised in the trap son (Bobby) Talk shit get kidnapped son (Bobby) I don't really know why I rap son (ayy) Money in the bank, yeah I got some (ayy) Couple sports cars yeah I bought some (ayy) Thought you never flex Bobby get it done (ayy) Y'all don't really know where I come from Talking that shit, I'm a come for it (what's good) Tell me what you really know about me right now Everything I want I get it somehow Fuck that trap shit this that rap shit Give me the hand like John the Baptist Ready to whip it I hoove in the catcher Greatest alive like I'm Cassius I put 'em all in they caskets They can't see me get past this I'm a bastard that mastered the flow and none of y'all ready for this massacre though Fuck what Logic had absent though Matter of fact it's not impossible but highly improbable like Saying the police isn't robbable But I'm liable to walk up into a station in blue face Like fuck the police! Blue lives ain't a race Fuck whoever said this rap shit was never a race This shit a marathon Murder you motherfuckers and carry on Claiming that you really 'bout ya shit You got your Jim Carrey on, "Liar liar" I might crucify ya Number one 'til I die Will never retire I am the Messiah I am the God of this shit This is how we do it Yeah I started this shit, yes I started this shit like Fuck that rap shit this that trap shit (Bobby) This world is my contraption (Bobby) I was born and raised in the trap son (Bobby) Talk shit get kidnapped son (Bobby) I don't really know why I rap son (ayy) Money in the bank, yeah I got some (ayy) Couple sports cars yeah I bought some (ayy) Thought you never flex Bobby get it done (ayy) Y'all don't really know where I come from Talking that shit, I'm a come for it (what's good) Tell me what you really know about me right now Everything I want I get it somehow

I shout out at you this is my dream

Dolla Dolla bill y'all😀