Verified archive entry

The Message

By Nas · Targeting Jay-Z

The Message is a diss track by Nas targeting Jay-Z. Nas later identified the luxury comparison about a Lexus with television screens as a competitive jab at Jay-Z; other listeners, including 2Pac, interpreted separate lines more broadly, making the song's target history contested.

Released1996

Annotated1

ExplicitYes

Addressable transcript

Lyrics & breakdown

Demo lines only. Select a line number to copy a stable deep link.

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[Produced by Trackmasters]
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[Verse 1]
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Fake thug, no love, you get the slug
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CB4 Gusto, your luck low, I didn't know 'til I was drunk though
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You freak niggas played out, get fucked and ate out
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Prostitute turned bitch, I got the gauge out
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96 ways I made out
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Montana way, the Good F-E-L-L-A, verbal AK spray
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Dipped attache, jump out the Range, empty out the ashtray
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A glass of 'Zé make a man Cassius Clay
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Red dot plots, murder schemes, 32 shotguns
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Regulate with my thuns, 17 rocks gleam from one ring
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Then let me let y'all niggas know one thing
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There's one life, one love, so there can only be one King
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The highlights of livin', Vegas-style, roll dice in linen
Multi-line diss block
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Antera spinnin' on Millenniums
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20G bets I'm winnin' 'em, threats I'm sendin' 'em
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Lex with TV sets—the minimum, ill sex adrenaline
Block noteUses luxury details to challenge Jay-Z's status
TargetJay-Z
MeaningWhat it means: Nas says that a Lexus fitted with television screens is only the minimum level of luxury, turning a recognizable detail associated with Jay-Z into a one-upmanship claim. Why it was said: Nas later explained that seeing Jay-Z's customized Lexus pushed him to replace his own car and sharpen the comparison. The line therefore works as an early status jab: Nas is not merely boasting about a vehicle, but telling Jay-Z that yesterday's flex no longer sets the standard.
ContextNas later identified the luxury comparison about a Lexus with television screens as a competitive jab at Jay-Z; other listeners, including 2Pac, interpreted separate lines more broadly, making the song's target history contested.
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Party with villains, a case of Demi-Sec to chase the Henny
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Wet any clique with the semi TEC, who want it?
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Diamonds I flaunt it, chickenheads flock, I lace 'em
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Fried, broiled with basil, taste 'em
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Crack they legs way out of formation
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It's horizontal how I have 'em fuckin' me in the Benz wagon
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Can it be Vanity from Last Dragon? Grab your gun, it's on though
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Shit is grimy, real niggas buck in broad daylight
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With the broke MAC, it won't spray right
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Don't give a fuck who they hit as long as the drama's lit
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Yo, overnight thugs bug ‘cause they ain't promised shit
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Hungry-ass hooligans stay on that piranha shit
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[Refrain]
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I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
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I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
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I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
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I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
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I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
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I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
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I never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death
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I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'
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[Verse 2]
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I peeped you frontin'
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I was in the Jeep, sunk in the seat, tinted, with heat, beats bumpin'
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Across the street, you was wildin', talkin' about how you ran the Island in '89
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Layin' up, playin' the yard with crazy shine
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I cocked the baby 9, that nigga gravy mine, clanked him
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What was he thinkin' on my corner when it's pay-me time?
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Dug 'em, you owe me, cousin, somethin' told me "Plug him!"
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So dumb, felt my leg burn, then it got numb
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Spun around and shot one, heard shots and dropped, son
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Caught a hot one, somebody take this biscuit 'fore the cops come
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Then they came, askin' me my name, what the fuck?
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I got stitched up, it went through, left the hospital that same night, what
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Got my gat back, time to backtrack
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I had the drop, so how the fuck I get clapped?
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Black was in the Jeep watchin', all he seen speed by was a brown Datsun
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And yo, nobody in my hood got one
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That clown nigga's through, blazin' at his crew daily
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The 'Bridge touched me up severely, hear me?
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So when I rhyme, it's sincerely yours
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Be lightin' L's, sippin' Coors on all floors in project halls
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Contemplatin' war, niggas I was cool with before
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We used to score together Uptown, coppin' the raw
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But, uh—a thug changes, and love changes
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And best friends become strangers (Word up)
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[Refrain 2]
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Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
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Ther–Ther–Ther–Ther–There ain't an army that could strike back
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Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
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Ther–Ther–Ther–Ther–There ain't an army that could strike back
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Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
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Ther–Ther–Ther–There ain't an army that could strike back
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Y'a–Y'all know my steelo
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There ain't an army that could strike back
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[Outro: Nas & (AZ)]
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Thug niggas
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Yo, to them thug niggas gettin' it on in the world, you know?
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To them niggas that's locked down
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Doin' they thing, survivin', ya know'm sayin'?
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To my thorough niggas, New York and worldwide
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Yo, to the Queensbridge Militia
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'9-6 shit, The Firm clique
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Illmatic, nigga, It Was Written though
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It's been a long time comin'
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Y'all fake niggas, tryin' to copy
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Better come with the real though, fake-ass niggas, yo
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(They throw us slugs, we throwin' them back, what)
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Bring the shit, man! Live, man!
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(Fuck that, son, word up) '9-6 shit