"'93 Stretch & Bobbito Freestyle Part 1" - Nas ft 6'9" & Grand Wizard [Audio Stream + Lyrics]

Patrick Lyons

by Patrick Lyons

Published March 5, 2014




On April 15, Nas will release a deluxe, 20th anniversary edition of his landmark debut, Illmatic. Illmatic XX, as it is titled, will include a bonus disc containing "several rare remixes, unreleased demos and freestyles," according to Sony. One of those freestyles, recorded during an appearance by Nas, 6'9" and Grand Wizard on WKCR's legendary "Stretch & Bobbito Show," is now available to stream, courtesy of YouTube. Listen above.

After a brief, informal interview about the then-upcoming Illmatic, the freestyle begins around the 2:48 mark. Nas dominates the mic for most of it, but lets 6'9" kick two dope verses and Grand Wizard handle some hypeman duties. It's a raw recording, but unlike many freestyles these days, you can tell Nas and Co. are flowing straight from the dome, with no prewritten lyrics. Still a teenager in this recording, it's clear that Nasty Nas was destined for greatness.

Preorder Illmatic XX from Amazon, and head over to Nas' Zumic artist page for more of his music and videos. The lyrics to the "'93 Stretch & Bobbito Freestyle Part 1" are below.

Nas ft 6'9" & Grand Wizard "'93 Stretch & Bobbito Freestyle Part 1" lyrics:

Yo how should I start this?
How should I begin
To sin
Grab the microphone and my rhyme to win
Wheel of Fortune
Spin around
Check it out I'm not a rap clown
Get smacked down
By the fucking 4-pound
In your dome
Hit you with the nick-plate chrome
Queensbridge that's my motherfucking home
Off the top of the head yo I'm marked blunthead
Police... Police they want a nigga dead
But I'm not going out like that
Black I kick the actual facts
It's solar, cold as a polar bear
I swear words through... Will
But I'm a chill
Rhymes to kill
Niggas know the style
When I freak the profile
Asiatic child Yo
Grand Wiz you on the side of me
Get on the mic and bless the M.I.C.

Ayo It's the Wiz Kid
You know what I'm sayin
Ayo... But yo I'm a pass it off to my man 6-9
Kick it one time

Ayo 6-9 the true to life nigga
Yo my style is iller
Iller than Horrors Berry figure yo
Niggas don't fuck with the 6-Niner
Shorty watch your mouth
I smack you back in your vagina
Here some reefa to crack sunrise tequila
Killed the margarita, heres a fifty get some more cheeba
The Ghetto Trooper
So spark up the blue buddha
My thoughts stay nasty like an underground sewer
To be the man you got to beat the man
It ain't nothing stompin' over here unbuckle up my Timberlands
You want static
Let's have it
Niggas who flow like the Atlantic
Will sink like the Titanic
Since birth I was thinking too fast
My first peoples beat the doctor when he smacked me on my ass
The Trigga-man
I'm crazy like Sam
My skill so ill, like a white...

Check it out now
One for the money
Two for pussy and foreign cars
Three for Alizé niggaz deceased or behind bars
I rap divine Gods check the prognosis, is it real or showbiz?
My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses
Live amongst no roses, only the drama, for real
A nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja
Here's my basis, my razor embraces, many faces
Your telephone blowin, black stitches or fat shoelaces
Peoples are petrol, dramatic automatic fo'-fo' I let blow
And back down po-po when I'm vexed so
My pen taps the paper then my brain's blank
I see dark streets, hustlin brothers who keep the same rank
Pumpin for somethin, some uprise, plus some fail
Judges hangin' niggaz, uncorrect bails, for direct sales
My intellect prevails from a hangin' cross with nails
I reinforce the frail, with lyrics that's real
Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats
But chill bless the microphone and say peace
Those who there, kick the microphone in your hand
Kick the flim-fam

Queensbridge when will the drama ever cease
I'd like to say peace, Willie and rest in peace
A cool brother who's all about justice
I still can't understand how he left us
Well he's gone, and life goes on you know
We had a crew, but one by one we go
Memories of his face that were full of joy
Rocka rocka bye, rocka bye homeboy
Reminiscing with the brothers standing on the block
Never talk a lot, never was a big shot
It's so hard to say goodbye, it's a sad song
And damn, I can't believe my man's gone
Digging back in the days we used to laugh
Now it's a memory that's haunting from the past
Poor Willie, it's a shame how the ghetto got him
And word is bond, I wanna cry when I think about him
Three bullets to his back on his own block
Not a way to go, killed by the buckshot
Queensbridge, wake up and smell the air
And stop killing like a villain like you don't care
Remember Willie and the times we had with joy
Rocka rocka bye, rocka bye homeboy
Rocka rocka bye, rocka bye homeboy
Rocka rocka bye
My skills are ill like the Prez with a plan
My brothers run from Sudan then the Klu Klux Klan
Like a kamikaze Saddam [?]
Feel the buns of a nun for tricks and fun
But chill, I spill a verse so you can understand
I kill rappers off quicker than a motherfucking mic man
And when it comes to a battle
I stand up tall like the man who played the man on the white channel

One Two

Grab the microphone
And I'm a rock it up right for my man Jungle
Dwelling in the jungle
Where must we go
Where must we wonder
Deep out the skies
Comes the M.C. Nas
Not to surprise, but to civilize
All the dumb man
Wanderin' around the streets
Listening to a nigga rapping on fly beats
I just kick the mad Philly style
Get buckwild
Cause you know my style
I could run a word
Kick it to a herb
Make him turn into a rich man
Increase the plan
The master plan
Yo I'm buggin out
Cause the weed got me going, plus the Guiness stout
Grand Wizard Yo you my physical
Why don't you grab the microphone and make the song miserable

It's the G- the G- the G- the G- the Wiz
I know that I go jus go get biz
Runnin out with my man Nasty on the side of me
My man 6-9, you know we not hiding G
I am the man that break it down
Break it on down, cause I'm from the town... I got...
Queensbridge, in back of me
The Tec and everything I'm coming strapped G.
It's like that...
Check it out uh, huh

Check it out ya'll
Money, and Murder, Money and Murder
The sick shit you heard coming from money, fucking...
My swerve, the words are poetic...
I sound energetic, when I'm blunted or Moet-ed
My microphone's upsetted
Cause I'm crazy
Now, you know never lazy
Yo, I'm gonna get all the cash I can
Don't give a fuck if I gotta shoot a policeman
Walk in the church and snatch your fucking...
Nah, I can't be flipping like that
Cause you niggas try to jock the style
But I left that shit, to get new shit, to flow like the Nile
Now you can't catch up G...
Cause I got the new styles on the M.I.C.
I keep getting Newer...
Can't step to A...
Nigga from the Bridge
So you keep that shit and Imma flip the script Next Year
And my real name is Nasir
Can't spell it, cause I say it too clear
The alphabet is not enough letters to use
Cause when it comes to mics, I bruise
I just go, with the magical mystic flow
Niggas don't know that's word to my man Bo
I get Illmatic with the style that's insane
Coming out a fucking murderous brain
Grand Wizard, Please take this mic from me
Before I bug out and wind up D.A.E.D.
I mean D.E.A.D.

I'm buggin out...

Source: Audiomack

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