It Ain't Hard to Tell - Live at Webster Hall, NYC - Dec. 17, 2002

Put your hands up Stillmatic to Illmatic, yeah
Put your hands in the air, c'mon, from Illmatic to Stillmatic, yeah
Put your hands in the air, I see y'all, from Illmatic to Stillmatic, go
Put your hands in the air, from Illmatic to Stillmatic (yeah, let's go back)
Put your hands in the air

It ain't hard to tell, I excel, then prevail
The mic is contacted, I attract clientele
My mic check is life or death, breathin a sniper's death
I exhale the yellow smoke of Buddha through righteous steps

Deep like The Shinin', sparkle like a diamond
Sneak a uzi on the island in my army jacket linin
Hit the Earth like a comet, invasion
Nas is like the Afrocentric Asian, half-man, half-amazin'

In my physical, I can express through song
Delete stress like Motrin, then extend strong
Drank Moet with Medusa, give her shotguns in hell
From the spliff that I lift and inhale, it ain't hard to tell



Credits
Writer(s): Steven M. Porcaro, Roy Handy, Gene Redd, John Bettis, Cleveland Horne, George Melvin Brown, Dennis Thomas, Gene C. Redd, Robert Earl Bell, Robert Spike Mickens, Nasir Jones, Claydes Eugene Smith, Ronald N. Bell
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