Jay-Z 

I feel like a Black Republican, money I got comin' in
Can't turn my back on the hood, I got love for them
Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in 'em
Probably end up back of the hood, I'm like "Fuck it then"

"Huddlin' over the oven, we was like brothers then
Though you was nothin' other than the son of my mother's friend
We had governin', who would have thought the love would end
Like ice cold album, all good things
Never thought we sing the same song that all hoods sing
Thought it was all wood-grain, all good brain
We wouldn't bicker like the other fools talk good game
Never imagine all the disasters that one could rain
Could bring, should bling, the game, and I could
It's kill or be killed, how could I refrain?
And forever be in debt, that's never a good thing
To the pressure for success can put a good strain
On a friend you call best, and yes it could bring
Out the worst in every person, even the good and sane
Though we rehearsed, it's just ain't the same
When you put in the game at age sixteen
Then you mix things, like cars, jewelry, and miss thing
Jealousy, ego, and pride, and this brings
It all to a head like coin, cha-ching
The root of evil strikes again, this could sting
Now the team got beef between the post and the point
This puts the ring in jeopardy - indefinitely

Nas

I feel like a black militant takin' over the government
Can't turn my back on the hood, too much love for them
Can't clean my act up for good, too much thug in 'em
Probably end up back in the hood, I'm like, "fuck it then"

I'm back in the hood, they like, "Hey Nas"
Blowin' on purp', reflectin' on they lives
Couple of Fat Cats, couple of A.I.'s
Dreamin' of fly shit instead of them gray skies
Gray 5's, hatas wishin' our reign dies
Pitch, sling pies, and niggaz they sing, "why"?
Guess they ain't strong enough to handle their jail time
Weak minds, keep tryin', follow the street signs
I'm standin' on the roof of my building
I'm feelin' - the whirlwind of beef, I inhale it
Just like an acrobat ready to hurl myself though the hoops of fire
Sippin' 80 proof, bulletproof under my attire
Could it be the forces of darkness, against hood angels of good
That forms street politics - makes a sweet honest kid
Turn illegal for commerce - to get his feet out of them Converse
That's my word

Nas feat. Jay-Z "Black Republican"