Disc 1 | ||||||
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
1. |
| 0:8 | ||||
Ladies and gentlemen, put our hands together for the astonishing... (girls singing) H to the izz-O...V to the izz-A... Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the 8th wonder of the world The flow o' the century...oh it's timeless...HOVE! Thanks for comin' out tonight You coulda been anywhere in the world, but you're here with me I appreciate that...uuunnnh... H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A Fo' shizzle my nizzle used to dribble down in VA Was herbin' em in the home of the Terrapins Got it dirt cheap for them Plus if they was short wit' cheese I would work wit' them Boy and we...got rid of that dirt for them Wasn't born hustlers I was burpin' em H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A Fo' sheezy my neezy keep my arms so freezy Can't leave rap alone the game needs me Haters want me clapped and chromed it ain't easy Cops wanna knock me, D.A. wanna box me in But somehow, I beat them charges like Rocky H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A Not guilty, he who does not feel me is not real to me Therefore he doesn't exist So poof...vamoose son of a bitch CHORUS H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A Fo' shizzle my nizzle used to dribble down in VA H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A That's the anthem get'cha damn hands up H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A Not guilty ya'll got-ta feel me H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A That's the anthem get'cha damn hands UP! Holla at me... I do this for my culture To let 'em know what a nigga look like...when a nigga in a roaster Show 'em how to move in a room full 'o vultures Industry shady it need to be taken over Label owners hate me I'm raisin' the status quo up I'm overchargin' niggaz for what they did to the Cold Crush Pay us like you owe us for all the years that you hold us We can talk, but money talks so talk mo' bucks CHORUS Yeah... Hove is back, life stories told through rap Niggaz actin' like I sold you crack Like I told you sell drugs...no... Hove did that so hopefully you won't have to go through that I was raised in the pro-jects, roaches and rats Smokers out back, sellin' they mama's sofa Lookouts on the corner, focused on the ave Ladies in the window, focused on the kinfolk Me under a lamp post, why I got my hand closed? Cracks in my palm, watchin' the long arm o' the law So you know I seen it all before I seen hoop dreams deflate like a true fiend's weight To try and to fail, the two things I hate Succeed in this rap game, the two things is great H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A What else can I say about dude, I gets bizzay CHORUS (girls singing) H to the izz-O, V to the izz-A... (4x to fade out) |
||||||
2. |
| 1:26 | ||||
[Jay-Z] R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit Memphis Bleek, we runnin this rap shit B. Mac, we runnin this rap shit Freeway, we run this rap shit O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit The takeover, the break's over nigga God MC, me, Jay-Hova Hey lil' soldier you ain't ready for war R.O.C. too strong for y'all It's like bringin a knife to a gunfight, pen to a test Your chest in the line of fire witcha thin-ass vest You bringin them Boyz II Men, HOW them boys gon' win? This is grown man B.I., get you rolled in the triage(?) Beatch - your reach ain't long enough, dunny Your peeps ain't strong enough, fucka Roc-A-Fella is the army, better yet the navy Niggaz'll kidnap your babies, spit at your lady We bring - knife to fistfight, kill your drama Uh, we kill you motherfuckin ants with a sledgehammer Don't let me do it to you dunny cause I overdo it So you won't confuse it with just rap music R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit M-Easy, we runnin this rap shit The Broad Street Bully, we runnin this rap shit Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it Freeway, we run this rap shit O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit {*"Watch out!! We run New York" -) KRS-One*} I don't care if you Mobb Deep, I hold triggers to crews You little FUCK, I've got money stacks bigger than you When I was pushin weight, back in eighty-eight you was a ballerina I got your pictures I seen ya Then you dropped "Shook Ones," switch your demeanor Well - we don't believe you, you need more people Roc-A-Fella, students of the game, we passed the classes Nobody could read you dudes like we do Don't let 'em gas you like Jigga is ass and won't clap you Trust me on this one - I'll detach you Mind from spirit, body from soul They'll have to hold a mass, put your body in a hole No, you're not on my level get your brakes tweaked I sold what ya whole album sold in my first week You guys don't want it with Hov' Ask Nas, he don't want it with Hov', nooooo! R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit B. Sigel, we runnin this rap shit M-Easy, we runnin this rap shit Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit Freeway, we run this rap shit Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit {*"Watch out!! We run New York" -) KRS-One*} I know you missin all the - FAAAAAAAME! But along with celebrity comes bout seventy shots to your brain Nigga; you a - LAAAAAAAME! Youse the fag model for Karl Kani/Esco ads Went from, Nasty Nas to Esco's trash Had a spark when you started but now you're just garbage Fell from top ten to not mentioned at all to your bodyguard's "Oochie Wally" verse better than yours Matter fact you had the worst flow on the whole fuckin song but I know - the sun don't shine, then son don't shine That's why your - LAAAAAAAME! - career come to a end There's only so long fake thugs can pretend Nigga; you ain't live it you witnessed it from your folks pad You scribbled in your notepad and created your life I showed you your first tec on tour with Large Professor (Me, that's who!) Then I heard your album bout your tec on your dresser So yeah I sampled your voice, you was usin it wrong You made it a hot line, I made it a hot song And you ain't get a corn nigga you was gettin fucked and I know who I paid God, Serchlite Publishing Use your - BRAAAAAAAIN! You said you been in this ten I've been in it five - smarten up Nas Four albums in ten years nigga? I could divide That's one every let's say two, two of them shits was due One was - NAHHH, the other was "Illmatic" That's a one hot album every ten year average And that's so - LAAAAAAAME! Nigga switch up your flow Your shit is garbage, but you try and kick knowledge? (Get the fuck outta here) You niggaz gon' learn to respect the king Don't be the next contestant on that Summer Jam screen Because you know who (who) did you know what (what) with you know who (yeah) but just keep that between me and you for now R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit M-Easy, we runnin this rap shit The Broad Street Bully, we runnin this rap shit Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it Freeway, we run this rap shit O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit {*"Watch out!! We run New York" -) KRS-One*} A wise man told me don't argue with fools Cause people from a distance can't tell who is who So stop with that childish shit, nigga I'm grown Please leave it alone - don't throw rocks at the throne Do not bark up that tree, that tree will fall on you I don't know why your advisors ain't forewarn you Please, not Jay, he's, not for play I don't slack a minute, all that thug rappin and gimmicks I will end it, all that yappin be finished You are not deep, you made your bed now sleep Don't make me expose to them folks that don't know you Nigga I know you well, all the stolen jew-els Twinkletoes you breakin my heart You can't fuck with me - go play somewhere, I'm busy And all you other cats throwin shots at Jigga You only get half a bar - fuck y'all niggaz |
||||||
3. |
| 1:44 | ||||
[Jay-Z]
Course I love you.. I love all y'all Hehehe, hehehe, f'real [Biz] I love girls, girls, girls, girls Girls, I do adore [Jay] Yo put your number on this paper cause I would love to date ya Holla at ya when I come off tour, yeah [Jay-Z] I got this Spanish chica, she don't like me to roam So she call me cabron plus marricon Said she likes to cook rice so she likes me home I'm like, "Un momento" - mami, slow up your tempo I got this black chick, she don't know how to act Always talkin out her neck, makin her fingers snap She like, "Listen Jigga Man, I don't care if you rap You better - R-E-S-P-E-C-T me" I got this French chick that love to french kiss She thinks she's Bo Derek, wear her hair in a twist My, cherie amor, tu es belle Merci, you fine as fuck but you givin me hell I got this indian squaw the day that I met her Asked her what tribe she with, red dot or feather She said all you need to know is I'm not a ho And to get with me you better be Chief Lots-a-Dough Now that's Spanish chick, French chick, indian and black That's fried chicken, curry chicken, damn I'm gettin fat Arroz con pollo, french fries and crepe An appetitite for destruction but I scrape the plate I love [Tip] Girls, girls, girls, girls (uh-huh) Girls, I do adore [Jay] Yo put your number on this paper cause I would love to date ya Holla at ya when I come off tour [Tip] I love girls, girls, girls, girls Girls all over the globe [Jay] I come scoop you in that Coupe, sittin on deuce-zeroes Fix your hair in the mirror, let's roll - c'mon [Jay-Z] I got this young chick, she so immature She like, "Why you don't buy me Reeboks no more?" Like to show out in public, throw tantrums on the floor Gotta toss a couple dollars, just to shut up her holla Got a project chick, that plays her part And if it goes down y'all that's my heart Baby girl so thorough she been with me from the start Hid my drugs from the NARCs, hid my guns by the parts I got this model chick that don't cook or clean But she dress her ass off and her walk is mean Only thing wrong with ma she's always on the scene God damn she's fine but she parties all the time I get frequent flier mileage from my stewardess chick She look right in that tight blue dress, she's thick She gives me extra pillows and seat back love So I had to introduce her to the Mile High Club Now that's young chick, stewardess, project and model That means I fly rough early, plus I know Tae-bo That means I'm new school, pop pills and stay in beef But I never have a problem with my first class seat I love [Rick] Girls, girls, girls, girls Girls, I do adore [Jay] Yo put your number on this paper cause I would love to date ya Holla at ya when I come off tour [Rick] I love girls, girls, girls, girls Girls all over the globe [Jay] I come scoop you in that Coupe, sittin on deuce-zeroes Fix your hair in the mirror, let's roll [Jay-Z] I got this paranoid chick, she's scared to come to the house A hypochondriac who says ouch before I whip it out Got a chick from Peru, that sniff Peru She got a cousin at customs that get shit through Got this weedhead chick, she always catch me doin shit Crazy girl wanna leave me but she always forgets Got this Chinese chick, had to leave her quick' Cause she kept bootleggin my shit - man I got this African chick with Eddie Murphy on her skull She like, "Jigga Man, why you treat me like animal?" I'm like excuse me Ms. Fufu, but when I met your ass you was dead broke and naked, and now you one half I got this ho that after twelve million sold Mami's a narcoleptic, always sleepin on Hov' Gotta tie the back of her head like Deuce Bigalow I got so many girls across the globe.. [Biz] I love girls, girls, girls, girls Girls, I do adore [Jay] Yo put your number on this paper cause I would love to date ya Holla at ya when I come off tour [Tip] I love girls, girls, girls, girls Girls all over the globe [Jay] I come scoop you in that Coupe, sittin on deuce-zeroes Fix your hair in the mirror, let's roll [Rick] I love girls, girls, girls, girls Girls, I do adore [Jay] Yo put your number on this paper cause I would love to date ya Holla at ya when I come off tour [Jay] I love girls, girls, girls, girls Girls, girls.. |
||||||
4. |
| 2:34 | ||||
[Jay-Z] Uh-huh uh-huh, gi-gi gi-geyeah Roc-a-Fella y'all, uh-huh uh-huh, Jigga Timbaland shit, nine-eight BEYOTCH Say what, say what? Uh-huh uh-huh, follow me beotch Nigga what, nigga who? Nigga what, nigga who? Switcha flow, getcha dough Can't fuck with this Roc-a-Fella shit doe Switcha flow, getcha dough Can't fuck with this Roc-a-Fella shit doe [Jay-Z] first four lines overlap the section above Can't fuck with me They ain't ready yet Uh-huh uh-huh Yeah, yeah Motherfuckers wanna act loco, hit em wit, numerous shots with the fo'-fo' Faggots runnin to the Po-Po's, smoke em like cocoa Fuck rap, coke by the boatload Fuck dat, on the run-by, gun high, one eye closed Left holes through some guy clothes Stop your bullshittin, glock with the full clip Motherfuckers better duck when the fool spit One shot could make a nigga do a full flip See the nigga layin shocked when the bullet hit And hey ma, how you, know niggaz wanna buy you But see me I wanna _Fuck for Free_ like Akinyele Take this ride 'til you feel it inside ya belly If it's tight get the K-Y Jelly All night get you wide up inside the telly Side to side, til you say Jay-Z you're too much for me Chorus: Jay-Z (with Amil-lion) (Nigga what?) Make you think you can fuck with me (Nigga who?) Recognize girl, Jay to the Z *repeat 3X* (Nigga what?) Make you think you can fuck with me (Nigga who?) Recognize bitch, Jay to the motherfuckin Z [Jay-Z] Got a condo with nuttin' but condoms in it The same place where the rhymes is invented So all I do is rap and sex, imagine how I stroke See how I was flowin on my last cassette? Rapid-fire like I' |
||||||
5. |
| 4:11 | ||||
[Jay-Z]
Uhh, uh uh uh It's big pimpin baby.. It's big pimpin, spendin G's Feel me.. uh-huh uhh, uh-huh.. Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah.. You know I - thug em, fuck em, love em, leave em Cause I don't fuckin need em Take em out the hood, keep em lookin good But I don't fuckin feed em First time they fuss I'm breezin Talkin bout, What's the reasons? I'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch Better trust than believe em In the cut where I keep em til I need a nut, til I need to beat the guts Then it's, beep beep and I'm pickin em up Let em play with the dick in the truck Many chicks wanna put Jigga fist in cuffs Divorce him and split his bucks Just because you got good head, I'ma break bread so you can be livin it up? Shit I.. parts with nothin, y'all be frontin Me give my heart to a woman? Not for nothin, never happen I'll be forever mackin Heart cold as assassins, I got no passion I got no patience And I hate waitin.. Hoe get yo' ass in And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah Chorus One: Jay-Z We doin.. big pimpin, we spendin cheese Check em out now Big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B Yo yo yo.. big pimpin, spendin cheese We doin - big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B [Bun B] Nigga it's the - big Southern rap impresario Comin straight up out the black bar-rio Makes a mill' up off a sorry hoe Then sit back and peep my sce-nawr-e-oh Oops, my bad, that's my scenario No I can't fuck a scary hoe Now every time, every place, everywhere we go Hoes start pointin - they say, There he go! Now these motherfuckers know we carry mo' heat than a little bit We don't pull it out over little shit And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it won't be a little hit Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch and step up yo' vocab Don't be surprised if yo' hoe stab out with me and you see us comin down on yo' slab Livin ghetto-fabulous, so mad, you just can't take it But nigga if you hatin I then you wait while I get yo' bitch butt-naked, just break it You gotta pay like you weigh wet wit two pairs of clothes on Now get yo' ass to the back as I'm flyin to the track Timbaland let me spit my pro's on Pump it up in the pro-zone That's the track that we breakin these hoes on Ain't the track that we flow's on But when shit get hot, then the glock start poppin like ozone We keep hoes crunk like Trigger-man Fo' real it don't get no bigger man Don't trip, let's flip, gettin throwed on the flip Gettin blowed with the motherfuckin Jigga Man, fool Chorus Two: Bun B We be.. big pimpin, spendin cheese We be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We be.. big pimpin down in P.A.T. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B Cause we be.. big pimpin, spendin cheese And we be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s Cause we be.. big pimpin in P.A.T. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B.. nigga [Pimp C] Uhh.. smokin out, throwin up, keepin lean up in my cup All my car got leather and wood, in my hood we call it buck Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall If he up, watch him fall, nigga I can't fuck witch'all If I wasn't rappin baby, I would still be ridin Mercedes Chromin shinin sippin daily, no rest until whitey pay me Uhhh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys Comin down in candied toys, smokin weed and talkin noise Chorus Two [Jay-Z] On a canopy my stamina be enough for Pamela Anderson Lee MTV jam of the week Made my money quick then back to the streets but Still sittin on blades... sippin that ray... Standin on the corner of my block hustlin Still gettin that cane half what I paid slippin right through customs It'll sell by night its extra white... I got so many grams if the man find out it will land me in jail for life But im still big pimpin spendin chesse with B.U.N. B, Pimp C, and Timothy We got bitches in the back of the truck, laughin it up Jigga Man that's what's up Chorus |
||||||
6. |
| 4:05 | ||||
[Jay-Z] Uh, uhh, listen First the Fat Boys break up, now every day I wake up Somebody got a problem with Hov' Whassup y'all niggaz all fed up cause I got a little cheddar and my records movin out the sto'? Young fucks spittin at me, young rappers gettin at me My nigga Big predicted the shit exactly "Mo' Money, Mo' Problems" - gotta move carefully Cause faggots hate when you gettin money like airfleets Yung'uns ice-grillin me, ohh - you not feelin me? Fine; it cost you nothin - pay me no mind Look, I'm on my grind cousin, ain't got time for frontin Sensitive thugs, y'all all need hugs Damn though mans I'm just tryin do me If the record's two mill' I'm just tryin move three Get a couple of chicks, get 'em to try to do E Hopefully they'll menage before I reach my garage I don't want much, fuck I drove every car Some nice cooked food, some nice clean drawers Bird-ass niggaz I don't mean to ruffle y'all I know you waitin in the wing but I'm doin my thing Where's the love? "Ain't no love, in the heart of the city.." I said where's the love? "Ain't no love, in the heart of town.." Yeah.. And then the Fugees gon' break up, now everyday I wake up Somebody got somethin to say What's all the fuckin fussin for? Because I'm grubbin more and I pack heat like I'm the oven door? Niggaz pray and pray on my downfall But everytime I hit the ground I bounce up like roundball Now I don't wanna have to kill sound(?) Don't wanna have to cock back the four pound bald Look scrapper I got nephews to look after I'm not lookin at you dudes, I'm lookin past ya I thought I told you characters I'm not a rapper Can I live? I told you in ninety-six that I came to take this shit and I did, handle my biz I scramble like Randall with his cut in hand but the only thing runnin is numbers fam Jigga held you down six summers; damn, where's the love? "Ain't no love, in the heart of the city.." Niggaz, where's the love? "Ain't no love, in the heart of town.." Holla at me!! "Ain't no love" (take 'em to church) "in the heart of the city.." Uh, uh, uh - my nigga where's the love? "Ain't no love, in the heart of town.." Fuck Then Richard Pryor go and burn up, and Ike and Tina Turner break up Then I wake up to more bullshit You knew me before records, you never disrespected me Now that I'm successful you'll pull this shit Nigga I'll step on your porch, step to your boss Let's end the speculation, I'm talkin to alla y'all Males shouldn't be jealous that's a female trait Whatchu mad cause you push dimes and he sell weight? Y'all don't know my expenses, I gotta buy a bigger place Hehehe, and more baggies, why you all aggie? Nigga respect the game, that should be it What you eat don't make me shit - where's the love? Where's the love? "Ain't no love, in the heart of the city.." "Ain't no love, in the heart of town.." "Ain't no love, in the heart of the city.." "Ain't no love, in the heart of town.." "Ain't no love, in the heart of the city.." "Ain't no love, in the heart of town.." "Ain't no love.." |
||||||
7. |
| 1:42 | ||||
[Jay-Z]
What? Well fuck you... bitch Bounce wit me, wit me, wit me wit me Can you bounce wit me, bounce wit me, wit me wit me Can you bounce wit me, bounce wit me, ge-gi-gi-gi-gi-gi Can you bounce wit me, bounce wit me, ye-ye-yeah uh-huh uh-huh bounce wit me, bounce wit me Can ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me Ya-yah-yah, ya-ya-yah-yeah bounce wit me, bounce wit me Ge-gi, ge-gi-gi-gi-geyeah bounce wit me, bounce wit me Get it! Verse One: Jay-Z Can I hit in the MORNING without givin you half of my dough And even worse if I was broke would you WANT ME? If I couldn't get you finer things like all of them diamond rings bitches KILL FOR would you STILL ROLL? If we couldn't see the sun risin off the shore of Thailand would you RIDE THEN, if I wasn't DROPPIN? If I wasn't ah, eight figure nigga by the name of Jigga would you come around me or would you clown me? If I couldn't flow futuristic would ya put your two lips on my wood and kiss it - could ya see yourself with a nigga workin harder than 9 to 5 contend with six, two jobs to survive, or do you need a BALLA? So you can shop and tear the MALL UP? Brag, tell your friends what I BOUGHT YA If you couldn't see yourself with a nigga when his dough is low Baby girl, if this is so, yo.. Chorus: repeat 2X [Jay-Z] Can I get a FUCK YOU to these bitches from all of my niggaz who don't love hoes, they get no dough [Amil] Can I get a WOOP WOOP to these niggaz from all of my bitches who don't got love for niggaz without doves? [Amil] Now can you bounce wit me, uhh [Jay-Z] Bounce wit me, bounce wit me Can ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me [Amil] Uh uh.. Major Coins, Amil-lion [Jay-Z] Bounce wit me, bounce wit me [Amil] Uhh, yo bounce wit me [Jay-Z] Can ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me [Amil] Yeah, uh-uh uh uh Verse Two: Amil You ain't gotta be rich but FUCK THAT How we gonna get around your BUS PASS Fo' I put this pussy on your mustache Can you AFFORD ME, my niggaz breadwinners, never corny Ambition makes me, so horny Not the fussin and the frontin If you got nuttin, baby boy, you betta "Git Up, Git Out and get somethin" Shit! I like a, lot of P-rada, Alize and Vodka Late nights, candlelight, then I tear the cock up Get it up I put it down erytime it pop up, huh I got to snap em, let it loose, then I knock ya Feel the juice, then I got ya, when you produce a rocka I let you meet momma and introduce you to poppa My, coochie remains in a Gucci name Never test my patience nigga, I'm high maintenance HIGH CLASS, if you ain't rollin, bypass If you ain't holdin, I dash yo Chorus [Jay-Z] Now can you bounce for me, bounce for me [Ja] Uhh [Jay-Z] Can ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me [Ja] Uhh! [Jay-Z] Gi-gi-gi-geyeah-geyeah [Jay-Z] Can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me [Ja] UHH! [Jay-Z] Gi-gi-gi-gi can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me [Ja] Uhh! Yeah Verse Three: Ja (Rule) It ain't even a question how my dough flows, I'm good to these bad hoes Like my bush wet and undry like damp clothes What y'all niggaz don't know, it's eazy, to pimp a hoe Bitches betta have my, money fo' sho' Before they go, runnin they mouth, promotin half I be diggin they, back out, go 'head, let it out I fucks with my gat out, bounce and leave a hundred Makin em feel, slutted even if they don't want it It's been SO LONG since I met a chick ain't on my tips but then I'm DEAD WRONG, when I tell em BE GONE So HOLD ON to the feelin of flossin and platinum cause from NOW ON, you can witness Ja the I-CON with hoodies and TIMBS ON, cause I thugs my bitches VeVe, studs my bitches, then we rob bitch niggaz I'm talkin bout straight figures if you here, you wit us If not Boo, you know what, I still fucked you Chorus [Jay-Z] Now can you bounce wit me, bounce wit me Ge-gi, ge-gi-gi-gi bounce wit me, bounce wit me Wit me wit me wit me bounce wit me, bounce wit me Bounce, bitch, bounce.. wit me wit me wit me wit me Can ya bounce wit me wit me Ge-gi, uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh Uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh Can ya bounce wit me bounce wit me Geyeah |
||||||
8. |
| 1:31 | ||||
Jay-Z:
Take the baseline out, uh huh Jigga uh huh uh huh uh huh Annie Sample: It's the hard knock life for us (uh-huh) It's the hard knock life for us Steada treated, we get tricked Steada kisses, we get kicked It's the hard knock life!! Verse 1: >From standing on the corner poppin To driving some of the hottest cars New York has ever seen To dropping some of the hottest verses rap has ever heard >From the dope spot, where the smoke lock Fleeing the murder scene, you know me well >From nightmares of a lonely cell, my only hell But since when ya'll niggas know me to bail? Fuck Naw Where all my niggas with the rubber grips, off shots And if you with me ma I rubbing your tits, and what not I'm form the school of the hard knocks, we must not Let outsiders violate our blocks, and my plot Let's stick up the world and split it 50-50, uh huh Let's take the dough and stay real jiggy, uh huh Let's sip the Cris and get pissy pissy Flow imminently like the memory of my nigga Biggie, baby! You know it's hell when I come through The life and times of Shawn Carter nigga Volume 2, ya'll niggas get ready Annie Sample: It's the hard knock life for us It's the hard knock life for us Steada treated, we get tricked Steada kisses, we get kicked It's the hard knock life!! Verse 2: I flow for those droned out All my niggas locked in the 10 by 4 controlling the house We live in hard knocks we don't take over we bomb blocks Burn 'em down and you can have 'em back daddy, I'd rather that I flow for chicks wishing they ain't have to strip to pay tuition I see you vision mama, I put my money on the longshots All my ballers that born to glock Now I'ma be on top whether I perform or not I went from lukewarm to hot Sleeping on guitars and cots, the king size, dream machine to grief I've seen pies let the thing between my eyes analyze life's ills Then I put it down tight grill I'm tight grill with the phony rappers you might feel we homeys I'm like still you don't know me, shit I'm tight grill when my situation ain't improving I'm trying to murder everything moving, Feel Me!! Annie Sample: It's the hard knock life for us It's the hard knock life for us Steada treated, we get tricked Steada kisses, we get kicked It's the hard knock life for us It's the hard knock life for us Steada treated, we get tricked Steada kisses, we get kicked It's the hard knock life!! Verse 3: I don't how to sleep, I gotta eat, stay on my toes Gotta a lot of beef so logically I prey on my foes Hustlin still inside of me and as far as progress You be hardpressed to find another rapper hot as me I gave you prophecy on my first joint, and ya'll lamed out Didn't really appreciate it till the second one came out So I stretched the game out, X'ed your name out Put Jigga on top, and drop albums non-stop for ya nigga Annie Sample: It's the hard knock life for us It's the hard knock life for us Steada treated, we get tricked Steada kisses, we get kicked It's the hard knock life for us It's the hard knock life for us Steada treated, we get tricked Steada kisses, we get kicked It's the hard knock life!! It's the hard knock life!! It's the hard knock life |
||||||
9. |
| 1:02 | ||||
I keep you fresher than the next chick
No need for you to ever sweat the next chick With speed, I make the best chick see the exit, indeed You gotta know you're thoroughly respected by me You get the keys to the Lexus, no driver Gotcha own 2001, to ride it Keep your ass tighter than Versace, that's why You gotta watch your friends, you got to watch me, conniving Yeah, the first chance to crack the bank, they try me All they get is 50 cent franks and papayas From the village to the tele, time to kill it on your belly No question, I got more black chicks between my sheets than essence They say sex is a weapon, so when I shoot Meet your death in less than 8 seconds Still poundin' in my after life, laugin', my thing is tight Let me hear ya'll Ain't no nigga like the one I got Sleeps around but he gives me a lot Friends they tell me I should leave you alone Tell the freaks to find a man of there own, man a they own |
||||||
10. |
| 6:06 | ||||
verse I
I'm makin sure it turns gold, when the weather folds, just put away the leathers and put ice on the gold, chilly with enough bail money to free a big willy, hi-stakes, I got more estate than philly, shopping sprees, coppin 3, deuce fever I.S'n, fully loaded, aahh yes, bouncin in the lex luger, tight in smoke like budah, 50 g's to the crap shooter, niggas cant fade me, chrome stocks beamin, through my perithial, I see you schemin, stop dreamin, I'll leave ya body steamin, niggas is fiendin, whats the meanin?, I'm leanin on any nigga intervenin with the sound of my money machine'n, my cup's runnin, over with hundreds, I'm one of the best niggas that done it, 6 digits and runnin, y'all niggas dont want it, I got the godfather flow, the don juan demarco, swear to god dont get if fucked up chorus (Mary J. Blige) takin out this time, to give you a piece of my mind, (Jay-Z) cuz you cant knock the hustle, who do you think you are?, well maybe one day youll be a star verse II last seen outta state, where I dropped my slang, I'm deep in the south, kickin up top game, bouncin on the highways, switchin 4 lanes, screaming though the sunroof money aint a thing, your worst fear confirmed, me and my fam roll tight like the firm, gettin down for life, thats right, you better learn, why play when fire burns?, we get together like a choir, to acquire what we desire, we do dirt like worms, produce g's like sperm, till legs spread like germs, I get extensive hoes, with expensive clothes, and I sip fine wines, and spit dangerous flows, what y'all dont know? cuz ya cant knock the hustle chorus (Mary J. Blige) runnin till the late day, I'm the one whos crazy, cuz thats the way youre makin me be, (the way you make me feel), (Jay-Z) cuz you cant knock the hustle I'm just tryin to get mine, I dont have the time, to knock the hustle for real verse III y'all niggas lunchin, punchin the clock, my function, is to make much and lay back munchin, sippin remy on the rocks, my crew, somethin to watch, nothin to stop, un-stoppable, scheme on the ice, I gotta hide ya crew, I gotta, let you niggas know the time like movado, my motto, stack rocks like colorado, while I order champagne, kristals by the bottle, its a damn shame, what ya not though, me, slick like a gato (cat), fuckin jay-z, my pops knew exactly what he did when he made me, he tried to get a nut and he got a nut and what!, straight bananas, can a nigga, see me, got the U.S Open, advantage jigga, serve like Sampras, play fake rappers like a canvas, le tigre, son youre too eager, you aint havin it?, good, me either, lets, get together and make this whole world believers huh, at my arraignment, screamin, all us blacks got is sports and entertainment, until we even, leavin, as long as I'm breathin, cant knock the way a nigga eatin, fuck you even, (fuck you) chorus (Mary J. Blige) takin out this time, to give you a piece of my mind, who do you think you are?, well maybe one day youll be a star runnin till the late day, I'm the one whos crazy, cuz thats the way youre makin me be, (the way you make me feel), I'm just tryin to get mine, I dont have the time, to knock the hustle for real |
||||||
11. |
| 7:04 | ||||
The most incredible baby Uhh - mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm Yeah, yeah.. uhh I can't see 'em comin down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry I can't see 'em comin down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry [Jay-Z] Good dudes - I know you love me like cooked food Even though a nigga got move like a crook move We was together on the block since we lunch We shoulda been together havin 4 Seasons brunch We used to use umbrellas to face the bad weather So now we travel first class to change the forecast Never in bunches, just me and you I loved your point of view cause you held no punches Still I left you for months on end It's been months since I checked back in Well somewhere in a small town, somewhere lockin a mall down Woodgrain, four and change, Armor All'd down I can understand why you want a divorce now Though I can't let you know it, pride won't let me show it Pretend to be heroic, that's just one to grow with But deep inside a nigga so sick [Chorus] I can't see 'em comin down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry I can't see 'em comin down my eyes So I gotta let the song cry I can't see it comin down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry I can't see it comin down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry [Jay-Z] On repeat, the CD of Big's "Me and My Bitch" Watchin Bonnie and Clyde, pretendin to be that shit Empty gun in your hand sayin, "Let me see that clip" Shoppin sprees, pull out your Visa quick A nigga had very bad credit, you helped me lease that whip You helped me get the keys to that V dot 6 We was so happy poor but when we got rich That's when our signals got crossed, and we got flipped Rather mine, I don't know what made me leave that shit Made me speed that quick, let me see - that's it It was the cheese helped them bitches get amnesia quick I used to cut up they buddies, now they sayin they love me Used to tell they friends I was ugly and wouldn't touch me Then I showed up in that dubbed out buggy And then they got fussy and they don't remember that And I don't remember you.. [Chorus] I can't see it comin down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry I can't see it comin down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry Yeah I seen 'em comin down your eyes But I gotta make the song cry I can't see it comin down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry [Jay-Z] A face of stone, was shocked on the other end of the phone Word back home is that you had a special friend So what was oh so special then? You have given away without gettin at me That's your fault, how many times you forgiven me? How was I to know that you was plain sick of me? I know the way a nigga livin was whack But you don't get a nigga back like that! Shit I'm a man with pride, you don't do shit like that You don't just pick up and leave and leave me sick like that You don't throw away what we had, just like that I was just fuckin them girls, I was gon' get right back They say you can't turn a bad girl good But once a good girl's goin bad, she's gone forever.. And more forever Shit I gotta live with the fact I did you wrong forever [Chorus] I can't see 'em comin down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry I can't see 'em comin down my eyes So I gotta let the song cry I know I seen 'em comin down your eyes But I gotta make the song cry I can't see 'em comin down my eyes So I gotta make the song cry [Jay-Z] It's fucked up girl..
|
||||||
12. |
| 6:58 | ||||
Let's go Hov! Uh huh, Hov' You, are, not, ready Hov', unstoppable, Dynasty, young Hova I'm a hustler baby [I'm a hustler] I just want you to know [Wanna let you know] It aint where I been [It aint where I been] But where I'm bout to go [Top of the world!] Now I just wanna love you [just wanna love you] But be who I am [you know you love me] And with all this cash [mo' money, mo' problems] You'll forget your man Now give it to me Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff But don't bullshit me C'mon, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff [Verse 1] *When the Remi's in the system Aint no tellin will I fuck 'em will I diss 'em That's what they be yellin I'm a pimp by blood, not relation Y'all be chasin, I replace them* Huh, drunk of Crist', mommy on E Can't keep her little model hands off me Both in the club, high, singing off key *And I wish I never met her at all...* It gets better, ordered another round It's, about, to go, down Got six model chicks, six bottles of Crist' Four Belvederes, got weed everywhere What do you say, me, you and your Clovey glasses Go somewhere private where we can discuss fashion Like, Prada blouse, Gucci bra Filth marked jeans, take that off Give it to me Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff But don't bullshit me C'mon, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff I said give it to me Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff But don't bullshit me Motha, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff [Verse 2] Yeah, save the narrative you savin it for marriage Let's keep it real ma you savin it for cabbage You wanna see how far I'ma go How, much I'ma spend but you already know Zip, zero, stingy with dinero Might buy you Crist', but that about it Might light your wrist, but that about it Fuck it, I might wife you and buy you nice whips Ma, but you really gotta ride nice dick Know how to work your hips and your head's priceless Profess you love the Hov', and I'll never let you down Get you bling like the Neptune sound Okay, hot Hov', too hot to hold Ladies love me long time like 2Pac sold Only way to roll, Jigga and two ladies I'm too cold, Motorola, two way page me, c'mon Give it to me Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff But don't bullshit me C'mon, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff I said give it to me Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff But don't bullshit me Mama, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff I'm a hustler baby [uh, Hov'] I just want you to know [Hov'] It aint where I been But where I'm bout to go [Hov', Hov'] Now I just wanna love you [young Hova] But be who I am [know you love me] And with all this cash [mo' money, mo' problems] You'll forget your man [Verse 3] Yeah, yeah, yeah Same song, I'm back, been around the world Ro-mancing girls that dance with girls From, Club Cheetah, to Club Amnesia The Peanuts in L.A., bubblin and dubblins Can't deny me, why would you want to You need me, why don't you try me Baby you want to, believe me, Hov'! Give it to me Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff But don't bullshit me C'mon, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff I said give it to me Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff But don't bullshit me Mama, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff You gotta... Give it to me Uh, uh huh |
||||||
13. |
| 8:22 | ||||
Come on the track duh duh da-da
With a throwback jersey and a fitted Might blow a bag of hershey in the sidd-ix Or might take sips of army with a chidd-ick, I'm so sick widdit Lampin in the Hamptons, the weekends man The Stan Smith Adidas and the Campers Or playin guts on the cruise, Hermes bow shoes The Izod bucket on I'm so old school Yellow wrist watch, Gucci flip flops Six top model chicks, who is this hot? J-A, ladies help me say it now Y-Z, mami why you playin with me? Ride with me, get high as me It's how it's supposed to be, when you rollin with G's, Hov'! Back up in this bitch like whoa Jigga get this whole shit jumpin like six-fo's [Chorus] (Hov'!) V is I, and I am him (Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga!) Slim with the tilted brim on twenty inch rims (Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga!) And if y'all got love for me I got love for y'all (Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga!) And if y'all go to war for me I go to war wit y'all (Jigga, Jigga, that nigga Jigga!) [Jay-Z] Hov'! And so I breeze through, jeans is Evisu She's respondin, top of C. Bronson We in Luan (whoo!) gettin our groove on Buyin out the bar, on our way to Spa' She never seen a hundred on the wrist before Never seen twenty-two's on the 6 before I am, killin 'em out there, they needin first aid Cause the boy got more 6's than first grade The crib got, killer views and square feet You have to film MTV Cribs for a week So, sleep if you need to, mami I will leave you Right where you stand, nah I don't wanna dance (I'm good) I just wanna see what's in your Frankie V pants Waist is low enough to let your waist show Top like a rock star, I got a fast car We can cruise the city, doin above sixty [Chorus] [Jay-Z] "He did it again!" Haters no like But they gotta fuck with it cause the flow's so tight Gnarly dude! I puff Bob Marley dude All day, like Rastafari's do Now I'm stuck to the point I could hardly move You fuckin up my high, don't bother me dude But Red Rover, send your hoes over She can do WHATEVER, sip somethin with soda She can leave WHENEVER, sip somethin with Hova We can play HOWEVER, slay bed or sofa And the prognosis, sex is explosive Left her with wet bedsheets, nigga I'm focused [Chorus] |