The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
If hip hop should die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
If hip hop should die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Hip hop just died this mornin'
And she's dead, she's dead
Yeah, niggaz smoke, laugh, party, and die in the same corner
Get cash, live fast, body their man's mama
Rich-ass niggaz is ridin' with three llamas
Revenge in their eyes, Hennessey and the ganja
Word to the wise with villain state of minds
Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind
Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind
(Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind)
Whenever, if ever, I roll up, it's sown up
Any ghetto will tell ya Nas helped grow us up
My face once graced promotional Sony trucks
Hundred million in billin', I helped build 'em up
Gave my nigga my right, I could have gave left
So like my girl Foxy, a nigga went Def
So, nigga, who's your top ten?
Is it MC Shan?
Is it MC Ren?
If hip hop should die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
If hip hop should die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Hip hop just died this mornin'
And she's dead, she's dead
The bigger the cap, the bigger the peelin'
Come through, something ill, missin' the ceilin'
What influenced my raps? Stick-ups and killings
Kidnappings, project buildings, drug dealings
Criticize that, why is that?
'Cuz Nas rap is compared to legitimized crap
'Cuz we love to talk on ass we gettin'
Most intellectuals will only half listen
So you can't blame jazz musicians
Or David Stern with his NBA fashion issues
Oh, I they like me in my white tee
You can't ice me, we here for life, B
On my second marriage, hip hop's my first wifey
And for that we not takin' it lightly
If hip hop should die, we die together
Bodies in the morgue lie together
All together now
If hip hop should die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
If hip hop should die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Everybody sound the same, commercialize the game
Reminiscin' when it wasn't all business
If it got where it started
So we all gather here for the dearly departed
Hip hopper since a toddler
One homeboy became a man then a mobster
If the guys let me get my last swig of Vodka
R.I.P., we'll donate your lungs to a Rasta
Went from turntables to mp3s
From "Beat Street" to commercials on Mickey D's
From gold cables to Jacobs
From plain facials to Botox and face lifts
I'm lookin' over my shoulder
It's about eighty niggaz from my hood that showed up
And they came to show love
Sold out concert, and the doors are closed shut
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
If hip hop should die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Hip hop just died this mornin'
And she's dead, she's dead
Yeah, niggaz smoke, laugh, party, and die in the same corner
Get cash, live fast, body their man's mama
Rich-ass niggaz is ridin' with three llamas
Revenge in their eyes, Hennessey and the ganja
Word to the wise with villain state of minds
Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind
Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind
(Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind)
Whenever, if ever, I roll up, it's sown up
Any ghetto will tell ya Nas helped grow us up
My face once graced promotional Sony trucks
Hundred million in billin', I helped build 'em up
Gave my nigga my right, I could have gave left
So like my girl Foxy, a nigga went Def
So, nigga, who's your top ten?
Is it MC Shan?
Is it MC Ren?
If hip hop should die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
If hip hop should die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Hip hop just died this mornin'
And she's dead, she's dead
The bigger the cap, the bigger the peelin'
Come through, something ill, missin' the ceilin'
What influenced my raps? Stick-ups and killings
Kidnappings, project buildings, drug dealings
Criticize that, why is that?
'Cuz Nas rap is compared to legitimized crap
'Cuz we love to talk on ass we gettin'
Most intellectuals will only half listen
So you can't blame jazz musicians
Or David Stern with his NBA fashion issues
Oh, I they like me in my white tee
You can't ice me, we here for life, B
On my second marriage, hip hop's my first wifey
And for that we not takin' it lightly
If hip hop should die, we die together
Bodies in the morgue lie together
All together now
If hip hop should die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
If hip hop should die before I wake
I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Roll to every station, murder the DJ
Everybody sound the same, commercialize the game
Reminiscin' when it wasn't all business
If it got where it started
So we all gather here for the dearly departed
Hip hopper since a toddler
One homeboy became a man then a mobster
If the guys let me get my last swig of Vodka
R.I.P., we'll donate your lungs to a Rasta
Went from turntables to mp3s
From "Beat Street" to commercials on Mickey D's
From gold cables to Jacobs
From plain facials to Botox and face lifts
I'm lookin' over my shoulder
It's about eighty niggaz from my hood that showed up
And they came to show love
Sold out concert, and the doors are closed shut
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What I like most about this is that Nas doesn't exclude himself from the "Hip hop is dead" argument. He's talking about himself, too. At the end, his buddies show up, and they can't even get in because the concert is sold out. It's reflective -- not like he's just saying he was right all along but everybody else sold out. Great single and I hope he returns to Illmatic form.