Try not to stress and don’t panic, its not an afterward underwriting for dashing Pennsylvania wannabe representative Lynn Swann. The cooperation to end all the collaborations has Jay penning more duality journal passages, comparing his disintegrated corporate thug-boy to the main abnormality while Nas is the relentless “dark activist” looking down on hip-jump’s romanticized hood from a position of great authority.
In spite of the fact that Jay-Z starts his teary confession booth with “I feel like a Black Republican, money I got comin’,” the well meaning, blundering uncertainty of his verse appears to be out and out Democratic talking about how much money does he have. He at the end of the day thinks back on a lost closest companion, attempting to legitimize mercilessness to his gathering of people and, most importantly, himself.
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“So the pressure for success can put a good strain,” he justifies, “On the friend you call best and yes it could bring/ Out the worst in every person and even the good and sane.” While this tune denote a hotly anticipated union, Jay-Z focuses on a separation. It’s a conflicting decision for a man continually created with inward clash – a battle that gets more troublesome with each new dark card.
Nas is positively more smug and cocksure. While Jay obviously worries over his reducing road cred, Nas doesn’t reconsider. “I’m back in the hood, they like, ‘Hey Nas’,” he begins. While Jay absurdly recognizes Jim Jones’ presence somewhere else, Nas keeps afloat shred here: “I’m standing on the roof of my building/ I’m feeling the whirlwind of beef, I inhale it.” Whereas Jay’s unsure rhymes go against the tune’s showing off Godfather-inspecting beat, Nas sounds like a genuine wear. All in all, what’ll it be? Isolated psychopath or supreme lead celestial host? Diebold wouldn’t even fuck this one up.
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