On “Last Real Nigga Alive” Nas states “I’m the last real nigga alive that’s official.”  Now while nearly every emcee currently holding a mic (sans Eminem) will take some offense with that statement, to be blunt, there are only a handful of emcees breathing who can honestly claim that they are putting there life between the paper’s line to the effect that Nas does. 
Similar to most of his efforts since Illmatic, Nasty Nas’ eighth official release, God’s Son, will undoubtedly be jocked, highly-scrutinized, rejoiced and debated by hip-hop fans all in the same breath-and for good reason. With God’s Son, Nas continues to teeter the fine line between being a modern day Langston Hughes and thanks in large part to producers who oft-times fail to raise there game to Nas’ level and a continued allegiance to his Bravehearts crew utter monotony.  Thankfully, for Nas, his brilliant moments have a way of outshining his inconsistencies. 

While Illmatic will always remain the tool by which all of his endeavors are gauged, lyrically, Nas has not been this sharp since that debut opus, as God’s Son jumps out of the gate with four official heaters in succession.   On the nostalgic, James Brown sampled opener, “Get Down”, Nas’ flow is off the charts and though it does not seem like there styles would mesh, Eminem’s cryptic production blends perfectly with Nas’ messiah mission on “The Cross”—”I carry the cross/if Virgin Mary had an abortion/I’d still be carried in a chariot by stampeding horses.”  Keeping with the throwback vibe, “Made You Look” is a stellar single, as its slick lyrics (“don’t say my cars topless/say the titties is out”) is offset by the classic “Apache” breakbeat that Salaam “The Chameleon” Remi employs.  The autobiographical “Last Real Nigga Alive”, tackles everything from the ego tripping that ran rampant in the mid-90′s, his falling out and reunion with Steve Stoute and explains the extended hiatus between It Was Written and I Am (his Mother’s illness).  And while “Last Real Nigga Alive” may keep Nas from ever having to answer another Jay-Z question (“It hurt me when I had to kill him/and his whole squad for dolo”) it still borders on paranoid, as Nas’ claims that lyrics from Notorious B.I.G.’s “Kick In The Door” contained subtle disses aimed at him seem off base. 

The rest of God’s Son is both dazzling and lazy in stretches.  With “Mastermind”, Alchemist  offers up an uncharacteristic snoozer, but redeems himself on the conceptual “Book Of Rhymes”.  With no contributions from DJ Premier, Pete Rock, or Large Professor for that matter, the production suffers; Salaam Remi goes for a Bomb Squad feel on “Zone Out” feat. Bravehearts, with spastic results and “Hey Nas” feat. Claudette Ortiz (Of City High) and Kelis is strictly for the ladies.  Likewise, “Warrior Song” feat. Alicia Keys would have benefited from a stronger voice on the hook. 

Yet, after hearing Nas absolutely incinerate the Mozart sample of the hypnotic “I Can” (try to keep yourself from signing along with the kiddie chorus) it becomes increasingly evident that Nas has the uncanny ability, similar to Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye, to bring his lyrics and messages to life, as he instructs shorties to slow down and enjoy their childhood while also motivating them too aspire for greatness “if the truth is told/the youth can grow/they’ll learn to survive until they gain control/nobody says you have to be gangster’s/hoes/read more learn more change the globe/ghetto children do your thing/hold your head up little man you’re a king/young princess when you get your wedding ring/your man’ll sing she’s my Queen.”  Furthermore, on “Heaven” feat. Jully Black, Nas flips a type ill double time rhyme couplet, breaks down the evils of the P.U.S.S.Y. with his vagina monologue “Pussy Kills” and if you can’t feel the touching ode to his recently departed Mom, “The Dance” (which includes his Pops on the Sax) then you don’t have a heart.

If Nas has learned anything from his battle with Jay-Z, it’s that he had to step up his work ethic.  The end result is three dope LP’s in the span of eighteen months—a fact that would make even 2Pac and Jay blush.  So, just how has Nas reclaimed the throne of NY?  Simply put substance over style.  “Microphone in one hand, the future of Hip-Hop in the other” with God’s Son, Nas has completed his reinvention and the king always reaps the spoils of victory.