Memory Lane (Sittin' in da Park)

## Song by Nas

"**Memory Lane (Sittin' in da Park)**" is the sixth track from American rapper Nas' debut studio album, *Illmatic* (1994). It samples the songs "We're in Love" by Reuben Wilson (1971), "Droppin' Science" by Marley Marl (1988), and "Pickin' Boogers" by Biz Markie (1988).

## Background

In an interview with *XXL*, producer DJ Premier explained that Nas chose the Reuben Wilson sample. While he wasn't into the beat, he "was in competition with the other producers on the album, so I wanted to be funkier than what they had." Nas wrote the lyrics "right on the spot," and once the recorded version came out, Premier believed, "I wasn't mad at it, I wasn't against it, I just thought I could have done better."

Nas noted, "I just felt like all the shit I saw in Queensbridge, it meant something. For some reason, I knew this ain't the average shit a kid my age is supposed to be seeing. I knew it was something special about what I was seeing, and it wasn't all good. This was real life. It's situations—whether it's welfare, or my friends' havin' dope-fiend parents, or teenagers being chased by cops."

## Personnel

* Christopher "DJ Premier" Martin – writer, producer
* Eddie Sancho – engineer
* Luis Tineo – assistant engineer
* Nasir Jones – vocals, writer
* Peg Barsella – writer
* Reuben Wilson – writer
* Tony Dawsey – mastering engineer

## Lyrics

* Original
* Live

**Lyrics**
[Intro]

Aight, fuck that shit! Word, word

Fuck that other shit, y'know what I'm sayin'?

We gonna do a lil somethin' like this

Y'know what I'm sayin'?

(Stay up on that shit)

Keep it on and on and on and on and

Know'm sayin'? Big Nas

Grand Wizard, God, what is it?

(It's like…) Haha, you know what I'm sayin'?

Yo, go ahead and rip that shit, dun!

[Verse 1]

I rap for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and prisoners

Hennessy-holders and old-school n\*\*\*as, then I be dissin' a

Unofficial that smoke Woolie Thai

I dropped out of Cooley High, gassed up by a cokehead cutie pie

Jungle survivor, fuck who's the live-r

My man put the battery in my back, a difference from Energizer

Sentence begins indented with formality

My duration's infinite, money-wise or physiology

Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop

I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop straight off the block

I reminisce on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat

Choco blunts'll make me see him drop in my weed smoke

It's real, grew up a trife life, the times of white lines, the high pipes

Murderous night times and knife fights invite crimes

Chill on the block with Cognac, cold strapped

With my peeps that's into drug money market interact

No sign of the beast in the blue Chrysler, I guess that means peace

For n\*\*\*as, no sheisty vice to just snipe ya

Start off the dice-rollin' match, from craps to cee-lo

With side-bets, so roll a deuce, nothin' below

(Peace, God!) Peace, God! Now the shit is explained

I'm takin' n\*\*\*as on a trip straight through memory lane

It's like that, y'all…

[Chorus]

"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

[Verse 2]

One for the money

Two for pussy and foreign cars

Three for Alizé, n\*\*\*as deceased or behind bars

I rap divine, God

Check the prognosis — is it real or showbiz?

My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses

Live amongst no roses, only the drama

For real, a nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja

Here's my basis; my razor embraces many faces

Your telephone blown, black, stitches or fat shoelaces

Peoples are petro, dramatic, automatic .44 I let blow

And back down po-po when I'm vexed, so

My pen taps the paper, then my brain's blank

I see dark streets, hustlin' brothers who keep the same rank

Pumpin' for somethin' — some'll prosper, some fail

Judges hangin' n\*\*\*as, uncorrect bails for direct sales

My intellect prevails from a hangin' cross with nails

I reinforce the frail with lyrics that's real

Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats

I decipher prophecies through a mic and say "Peace!"

I hung around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats

They spoke of Fat Cat; that n\*\*\*a's name made bell rings, black

Some fiends scream about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing

Uptown was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin

Yo, fuck, rap is real! Watch the herbs stand still

Never talkin' to snakes 'cause the words of man kill

True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my vein

I pour my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane

[Chorus]

"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

[Outro: DJ Premier scratching]

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"The most dangerous MC is…"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"The most dangerous MC is…"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"The most dangerous MC is…"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"The most dangerous MC is…"

"Me number one, and you know where me from"

**Lyrics**
[Spoken: Nas]

Yeah, yeah

Brings me back

As you come outside on the block

The basketball court was crack and you still played ball

Shooting on the rusty rim

I lived on the fourth floor

Wow, remember those days like yesterday

Memories man

They feed the soul

Yeah

[Verse 1: Nas]

I rap for listeners, bluntheads, fly ladies, and prisoners

Henessey-holders and old-school n\*\*\*as, then I be dissin' a

Unofficial that smoke Woolie Thai

I dropped out of Cooley High, gassed up by a cokehead cutie pie

Jungle survivor, fuck who's the live-er

My man put the battery in my back, a difference from Energizer

Sentence begins indented with formality

My duration's infinite, moneywise or physiology

Poetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop

I drop the ancient manifested hip-hop straight off the block

I reminisce on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat

I can see him drop in my weed smoke

It's real, grew up in trife life, murderous night times

And knife fights invite crimes

Chill on the block with Cognac, hold strap

With my peeps that's into drug money market interact

No sign of the beast in the blue Chrysler

I guess that means peace

For n\*\*\*as, no sheisty vice to just snipe ya

Start off the dice-rollin' mats for craps to cee-lo

With side-bets, I roll a deuce, nothin' below

Peace God – now the shit is explained

I'm takin' n\*\*\*as on a trip straight through memory lane, damn

It's like that, y'all

It's like that, y'all

It's like that, y'all, yeah

[Chorus: Nas]

Now let me take a trip down memory lane

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

Now let us take a trip down memory lane

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

Now let us take a trip down memory lane

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

Now let us take a trip down memory lane

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

Lemme explain

[Verse 2: Nas]

One for the money, two for pussy and foreign cars

Three for Alizé, n\*\*\*as deceased or behind bars

I rap divine, God, check the prognosis: is it real or showbiz?

My window faces shootouts, drug overdoses

Live amongst no roses, only the drama

For real, a nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja

Here's my basis, my razor embraces, many faces

You're telephone blown, black, stitches or fat shoelaces

Peoples are petro, dramatic automatic .44 I let blow

And back down po-po when I'm vexed so

My pen taps the paper, then my brain's blank

I see dark streets, hustlin' brothers who keep the same rank

Pumpin' for somethin', some'll prosper, some fail

Judges hangin' n\*\*\*as, uncorrect bails for direct sales

My intellect prevails from a hangin' cross with nails

I'll reinforce the frail with lyrics that's real

Word to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats

I decipher prophecies through a mic and say "peace"

I hung around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats

They spoke of Fat Cat; that n\*\*\*a's name made bell rings, black

Some fiends scream about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing

Uptown was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin

Yo, fuck, rap is real! Watch the herbs stand still

Never talkin' to snakes, ‘cause the words of man kill

True in the game, as long as blood is blue in my veins

I pour my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane

It's like that, y'all

It's like that, y'all

Memory lane

Nothing like the memories boy

Lemme take a trip down (memory lane)

Uh, comin' outta Queensbridge

[Chorus: Nas]

Now let me take a trip down memory lane

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

Remember lookin' out my window pane

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

Now let us take a trip down memory lane

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

Now let me take a trip down memory lane

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

"Comin' outta Queensbridge"

## References

1. ↑ "An Oral History of Nas' Classic Debut Album 'Illmatic'". *XXL*. April 16, 2014.

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