Reelmatic (An Ode to Illmatic​)​: Part I

by C-Gats



The first half of an ode/homage to one of the most influential rap albums of all times, Nas' "Illmatic", in montage form. Guest starring Tac (who also mixed and mastered the song).


i know this concepts overdone... but illmatic was influential to holding my pencil/
you could say... im nas’ oldest son/
not holdin' a gun... but shoot lead out/
produce stencils in my head now...actuatin’ the visions in my mental/
I was born with genetics...that make me murder phonetics/
A heathen in my beliefs... but truly my words prophetic
I’m atheist and agnostic.... don't stay on those topics or pretend to/
but polyamorous....worshippin' goddess-es like Hindus/
Un-blind the windows...i'm lettin you see the real me, so/
you can suck d ....with a cup of tea you don't feel me/
You can bust three bullets at me in miami/
Understand that i’m so frigid with the flow...i will not feel heat/
You can never kill legacy is solidified/
Please just get your book out my face...i'm not a twitter guy/
My scriptures fire...written on tablets sittin' on vivid skies/
I’ll mimic god...and will my fan-base to go and kill a guy/

They’re rolling deep up in these streets....a nigga die quick/
Searchin' for options....and end up sellin' poison toxins/
Duckin' the cops they watch for set keep ya head up/
Struggle to rise like yeast and keep a piece to get they bread up/
Never will let up....the lust for papers, violence and capers/
That snitch who tellin' could be anyone....even your neighbor/
Don't do no favors...they could change up drop a dime quick/
This is the mindset...yeah, paranoia keeps the mind sick/
Not glorifying what goes on... inside the jungle/
But the hustle i respect it...if that’s what it fuckin' comes to/
Murder and tussle....muscle ya crew and bust tools/
Rollin' purplish herbal... to numb you to all the gun wounds/
And those mental scars...they psychologically impair you/
and them metal bar cages...they are frightening it scares dudes so/
every step is like a tip toe...yo thats how shit goes/
It’s like a deadly game ...of metal gear on the Nintendo/

Realizing the realism of life and how it’s gotta be/
Duckin' the evil do’ers...who screw us, they takin shots at me/
Tryin to leave me leakin'....metaphorically speaking/
I’m strugglin’ to find identity daily... but black and puerto rican/
Mainly a human...i’m movin’ swiftly through time/
i’m smokin' dozens of dimes.. to ease my troubles, sublime/
The feelin' is so relieving...revealing the upward struggle/
I'm climbin' mountains of in-security...sometimes i stumble but I.../
get up and reduce stress/
Fightin' against sobriety...drinkin' but i produce less/
Inebriated so faded is.... not an option/
Gotta keep my mind in order...the blurriness out my optics/
If my own eyes are deceiving can i live like Stevie/
Wondering if i can trust you....why should anyone believe ME/
If life’s a bitch.... i guess that death is when we spay her/
So i keep from being neutered.... staying fertile with my paper/

Life’s a bitch...that’s why we rhyme/
We don't have time...for drama starters/
If you gotta go/
Life’s a bitch that's why we rhyme/
We don't have time...for all the problems/
So we put it in a poem/

Life’s a bitch
she been around the block
been around my circle
roundabout up in the cut
I think the world ‘bout her
but she pour the powder on, I ponder on about her
why I gotta put her in a song
I let the words seep sourness
bitter how I would get when she trip me
and I start trippin' bout what I would do next
I shout, I scream
out loud, allow me to explain
I’ve got too much shit going on in my brain
but that's the life that I lead
music rappin', and partly smoking that weed
my identity’s in the dirt
as far as I can perceive I am only human
s’only right I stick to flowin' the breeze
with the homies living boldly like we roll in the streets
mama told me I was meant to take control of my beat
the beat of my heart
the way it moves when I speak
I know that actions have reactions, so I make’em discreet
you’ll never know my intentions
I am only here to do me
so Gats, do you homie
GU and PLG

I'm sick of losin' i'm taking back my dignity/
not spittin' for the industry....this imagery’s my inner me/
I sip the Hennessy (yeah) time goes by
i see the world through the lenses.... of a wise old guy/
It keeps me thinkin' bout my failures...and successes, the stresses/
My adolescence...and how i’ve grown so far, progression/
These lessons, like 120...but i'm not a god body/
Used to be a 5%’er...but i left that life behind me/
I don't know the math...but i can calculate my timing/
When rhyming...a&r’s they rush in just to sign me/
Forever independent penmanship is set in stone/
These voices in my mind though...they refuse to leave my head alone/
Like nigga get the money...dumb it down and be shallow/
But i’d rather eat the shells the end of a shottie barrel/
Silence all the noises inside Randy Orton/
Not resortin’ to that hand...but cant predict the card like tarot/


released October 11, 2016
C-Gats & Tac



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