Nas Sends A CRYPTIC Message to Jim Jones in “The Omerta” ft. Raekwon 👑🔥[ALTERNATE VERSE]

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Nas Sends A CRYPTIC Message to Jim Jones in “The Omerta” ft. Raekwon 👑🔥


"The Omerta": Nas & Raekwon Tap Into Street Codes, Revolution, and Legacy


Nas and Raekwon just dropped an instant classic. “The Omerta” isn’t just bars—it’s a manifesto.

From revolutionary thoughts to coded street law, Nas unloads a spiritual assault rifle of truth. In what feels like a subtle response to Jim Jones, Nas reflects on power, religion, Harlem politics, CIA plots, and the legacy of Black America—from Dutch deception to native finesse.

🎨 “I spent a ticket on art…”
🕌 “Torah or synagogue leaders? Qur’an readers or palm readers?”
💥 “Dying species of real men, I feel that sh*t…”

This isn’t a diss—this is a lesson.

🔍 Watch as we break down the cryptic messages, the historical references, and why this song is already being called a lyrical documentary.





Lyrics
We the examples, we who we said we was
Never faked it, ones who wore jewelry they couldn't play with
The ones who stayed rich
Details of my revolutionary ways, probably get studied, some CIA shit
Who has true power? The Torah or synagogue leaders?
Qur'an readers or palm readers?
Witch-crafters or Christian pastors?
Rich rappers, Marx said "Religion's the opiate of the masses"
When Nas says, I got thoughts as if a therapist said
What time you want to learn what's in my head
Well, I'm reclining, I'm just stating facts as I respond like when the army walks
With assault rifles near army bases far beyond New York
On foreign blocks like Hamas, guys in emergency triage
Extended magazine knock targets off
Heart beating stops, car speeding, cops pull you over
To check for warrants, so give your best performance
Nobody got time for petty in the city of bosses
Sirens is my psychiatry office
This morning I woke feeling great, so I went to an auction
To get lost in a different scene, spent the ticket on art
So interesting, a painting of a fiend in Hudson Yard
Another painting was black natives before Central Park
You know the claims, this was all natives' terrain
And the year was like 16 something, so could this mean hustling
Began when the Indian finessed the Dutchman
With opium on horseback? This way before crack
We always been the Mecca for supply and demand
In every era ledgers in this land was going hand in hand, damn
It's mind boggling who we are, the modern kings
It get spooky in Harlem, Bronx, Brooklyn, and all of Queens
And Staten Island, real type shit
Dying species of real men, I feel that shit, yeah

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Lyrics:

We the examples, we who we said we was
Never faked it, ones who wore jewelry they couldn't play with
The ones who stayed rich
Details of my revolutionary ways probably get studied, some CIA shit
Who has true power, brothers let the cash gas em up
Let a piece of ass drive em crazy, that's nasty stuff
Notice how it's growing, all these suckers are gutless
Get a little money and turn into Uncle Ruckus
This ain't a stupid cartoon though, I'm the truth but you know
Now you feel like you Anthony Spilotro, you not though
Money bought you some goons though
I tell it straighter than a hot comb
You a knock-off, you not from the cloth
Scary nigga, my natural instinct is tell it real and let it sink in
I had to think quick and not let the weak win
Got smoke for me? Beef with yourself
I be chiefing too hard to notice, every week it be somebody else
Soon as my name's mentioned lames are offended
If words hurt you it wasn't intended
But when when it comes to my words if I said it I meant it
If the shoe fits - this one is for you bitch
You got me confused with your fabricated form of delusion
Ya dusty, need to be bitch smacked
Face under stomped feet on concrete, they want me tripped back
Thirty on bottles alone, a mil on the wrist, facts
Excellency, dudes is envious they pretend to be us
Feminine traits fake, low key they women disgusted
Lame for life, a list of them, rich bums
Broke or soft, speak on me like I'm a bitch or something?
It's mind boggling who they are behind the scenes
It get spooky in Brooklyn, Bronx, Harlem, and all of Queens
And Staten Island, real type shit
Dying species of real men, I feel that shit yo