Rewind Lyrics

from Stillmatic

"Rewind" is track #3 on the album Stillmatic. It was written by Armstrong, Lillian Hardin / Rubin, Rick.
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"Rewind" is track #3 on the album Stillmatic. It was written by Armstrong, Lillian Hardin / Rubin, Rick.
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Listen up gangstas and honeys with ya hair done
Pull up a chair hon' and put it in the air son
Dog, whatever they call you, god, just listen
I spit a story backwards, it starts at the ending

The bullet goes back in the gun
The bullet hole's closin' this chest of a nigga
Now he back to square one, screamin', "Shoot don't please"
I put my fifth back on my hip, it's like a VCR rewindin' a hit

He put his hands back on his bitch, my caravan doors open up
I jumped back in the van and closed it shut
Goin' reverse, slowly prepared
My nigga Jungle utters out somethin' crazy like, "Go he there"

Sittin' in back of this chair, we hittin' the roach
The smoke goes back in the blunt, the blunt gets bigger in growth
Jungle unrolls it, put his weed back in the jar
The blunt turns back into a cigar

We listen to Stevie, it sounded like heavy metal fans
Spinnin' records backwards of AC-DC
I give my niggas dap, jump out the van back first
Back upstairs, took off the black shirt

I'm in the crib with the phone to my ear
Listen up so y'all can figure out the poem real clear
The voice on the phone was like, "Outside right we"
So with my mouth wide, holdin' my heat

Bullets I had plenty to squeeze, plenty for ya
'Cause Jungle said, "Block your on enemies the"
Hung up the phone, then the phone rang
I'm laid in the bed thinkin' 'bout this pretty young thing

Who left, she came back, her clothes just fell to the rug
She fell to my bed and gave me a hug
I told her, "No hell", she talkin' 'bout, "Me kiss"
Bobbed her head then spit the nut back in my dick

Started suckin' with no hands, a whole lotta spit
Then got up and put her bra back on her tits
Got fully dressed and told me, "Stressed really I'm"
Picked up her Gucci bag and left her nigga behind

Walkin' through the door, she rang the bell twice
I vomited Vodka back in my glass with juice and ice
The clock went back from three, to two, to one
And that's about the time the story begun

That's when I first heard the voice mail on the cell
It said, "Son we found that nigga we gotta kill"

Ay yo son, ay yo son, you hear me, you hear me?
Listen man, this dude right on the block, right now, man
I found him, right now, I see him right now, let's kill him
Yo, this Nas, leave it, peace

Songwriters
ARMSTRONG, LILLIAN HARDIN / RUBIN, RICK

Published by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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