It's foul what this money could do, cash corrupts the loyal.
NasRead
I rap for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and prisoners
Interpretation
The quote highlights the diverse audience that connects with Nas's music, emphasizing inclusion across different backgrounds.
Nas expresses that his rap is meant for a wide range of listeners, including those who may be marginalized or overlooked, such as the incarcerated or those who enjoy a carefree lifestyle. This reflects the power of music as a medium that unites various types of people, regardless of their circumstances or lifestyles, and showcases the art of storytelling in hip-hop culture.
In practice
This quote can be used in a discussion about the diversity of music audiences in a classroom setting.
It's foul what this money could do, cash corrupts the loyal.
It's a thin line between paper and hate,_x000D_ _x000D_ Friends and snakes, nine millis and thirty-eights,_x000D_ _x000D_ Hell or the pearly gates...I was destined to come,_x000D_ _x000D_ Predicted, blame God, He blew breath in my lungs.
I pledge allegiance to the fair and balanced truth._x000D_ _x000D_ Not the biased truth,_x000D_ _x000D_ Not the liest truth,_x000D_ _x000D_ But the highest truth.
Every time I get in the studio, I feel like I wanna have some fun. My fun is not doing the easy work. My fun is doing what's me.
If you scared to take chances, you'll never have the answers...
I don't respect killers, I respect O.G. knowledge,_x000D_ _x000D_ Codes of the streets got new rules, but no guidance._x000D_ _x000D_ Lessons, detrimental to a young disciple;_x000D_ _x000D_ Folks, take care of your brothers, niggas do as I do._x000D_ _x000D_ Keep your enemies close, where they can see you._x000D_ _x000D_ It's not your enemy who get you, it's always your own people.
I am a creature of my pen. My pen is the best of me.
As for the usefulness of poetry, its uses are many. It is the deification of reality.
Ladies bathed before noon, after their three o'clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frostings of sweat and sweet talcum.
The arts make vivid the fact that words do not, in their literal form or number, exhaust what we can know. The limits of our language do not define the limits of our cognition.
I think the mystery of art lies in this, that artistsβ relationship is essentially with their work β not with power, not with profit, not with themselves, not even with their audience.
There are millions of chords. There are millions of numbers. And everyone forgets the one that is a zero. But without the zero, numbers are just arithmetic. Without the empty chord, music is just noise.
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