Is Tim Duncan the NBA's Nas?

Image via Complex Original

Sometimes you gotta get rid of your girl to become great—or at least end a drought. That goes even if your wife might be Kelis. Well, to be fair, Nas didn't really divorce Kelis specifically to make a great album—that would be petty. Rather, Life Is Good, his Here My Dear, came as a result. It marked the end of a near-decade long creative drought. Tim Duncan doesn't have those, but it's worth noting that he did win his first championship in seven years (and consequentially ended Miami's dynasty) after going through a divorce mid-playoffs.

Some years you get a Nastradamus. Other years you end up averaging under 14 points per game (well, Duncan only sunk that low once, and that's this year). Neither means that you're completely washed. Duncan and Nas aren't just known for how long they've been in the game; they've somehow managed to stay away from being peripheral players. People sleep on this fact: Duncan has been at the core of one of the century's best sports dynasties since its first championship. Nas is still here when many of his contemporaries have quit, fell off completely, play grumpy old men, or play cops on television. And hey, Nastradamus had some joints on there.

In some neighborhoods, you risk serious bodily harm and possibly a missing limb if you talk about another dude's mother or baby's mother. Nas is a hip-hop star and Tim Duncan has a lucrative basketball contract. There's not much of a point in catching a body. Jay Z and Kevin Garnett probably know this. Why else would KG say some shit like, “Happy Mother's Day, motherfucker,” to someone with a deceased mother? Likewise, Jay Z pulled no punches while discussing Mrs. Jones on "Supa Ugly": “I came in your Bentley backseat, skeeted in your Jeep/ Left condoms on your baby seat.”

Time can change things, though. Jay Z and Nas are cool and making mediocre songs. Not the case for Garnett and Duncan.

For whatever reason, neither have any qualms about reminding you they've once lived in a time of beepers and FUBU. Like, it was the main inspiration for a lot of Nas's raps in 2014. Take the “We Dem Boyz” remix for instance: “Girl, I house you like the Jungle Brothers, understand/ I shine before ya'll time/ I been outside when T La Rock invented rhymes.”

Could you imagine Nas just rolling around with T La Rock on his boo-loving playlist. Meanwhile, the swaglessness within Tim Duncan's closet is notorious. 39 is…well, the new 39.

Tim Duncan's prodigious talent was clear when he entered the league. With David Robinson by his side, Duncan would put up 21.1 points per game and 11.9 rebounds per game in his Rookie of the Year campaign. Is this the Illmatic of Rookie of the Year campaigns? Nah. Of course not. But to play devil's advocate, Nas was about to hit a dry streak as Duncan was on the come up.

If there's anything that can make someone shed a tear and catch a body at the same time, it's that Spurs commercial and Nas's verse on “Eye For a Eye (Your Beef Is Mines).”