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"And the other night when I was, researching, what we were going to be discussing today, I came across a passage that, I think it really exemplifies what the young brother next to me was talking about, and that all things must come to an end. It is an inevitable part of the cycle of existence. All things must conclude. Take the analogy of a tree that grows in Brooklyn, among the steel and concrete with all of its glorious branches and leaves. One day he too will pass on his legacy, through the seeds that drop to the ground. And as the wind carry these seeds throughout the land, a new life will begin for each one of them as they stand for a monument to the one that came before."
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[Jay-Z's Mom:]
Sean Carter was born December 4th Weighing in at 10 pounds 8 ounces He was the last of my 4 children The only one who didn't give me any pain when i gave birth to him And that's how i knew that he was a special child [Jay-Z Verse 1] They say 'they never really miss you til you dead or you gone' So on that note i'm leaving after the song So you ain't gotta feel no way about Jay so long Atleast let me tell you why i'm this way, Hold on I was conceived by Gloria Carter and Adaness Revees Who made love under the Siccamore tree Which makes me A more sicker emcee my momma would claim At 10 pounds when i was born i didn't give her no pain Although through the years i gave her her fair share I gave her her first real scare I made it from birth and i got here She knows my purpose wasn't purpose I ain't perfect i care But i feel worthless cause my shirts wasn't matchin my gear Now i'm just scratchin the surface cause what's burried under there Was a kid torn apart once his pop disappeared I went to school got good grades could behave when i wanted But i had demons deep inside that would raise when confronted Hold on [Jay-Z's Mom:] Shawn was a very shy child growing up He was into sports And a funny story is At 4 he taught hisself how to ride a bike A two wheeler at that Isn't that special? But, i noticed a chance in him when me and my husband broke up [Jay-Z Verse 2] Now all the teachers couldn't reach me And my momma couldn't beat me Hard enough to match the pain of my pops not seeing me, SO With that distain in my membrain Got on my pimp game Fuck the world my defense came Then Dahaven introuced me to the game Spanish Jose introduced me to cane I'm a hustler now My gear is in and i'm in the in crowd And all the wavey light skinned girls is lovin me now My self esteem went through the roof man i got my swag Got a volvo from this girl when her man got bagged Plus i hit my momma with cash from a show that i had Supposedly knowin nobody paid Jaz wack ass I'm geting ahead of myself, by the way, i could rap That came second to me movin this crack Gimme a second i swear I will say about my rap career Til 96 came niggas i'm here Good-bye [Jay-Z's Mom:] Shawn use to be in the kitchen Beating on the table and rapping And um, until the wee hours of the morning And then i bought him a boom box And his sisters and brothers said he would drive them nuts But that was my way to keep him close to me and out of trouble [Jay-Z Verse 3] Good-bye to the game all the spoils, the adreneline rush Your blood boils you in a spot knowing cops could rush And you in a drop your so easy to touch No two days are alike Except the first and fifteenth pretty much And 'trust' is a word you seldom hear from us Hustlers we don't sleep we rest one eye up And the drought to find a man when the well dries up You learn to work the water without workin thirst til die YUP And niggas get tied up for product And little brothers ring fingers get cut up To show mothers they really got em And this was the stress i live with til i decided To try this rap shit for a livin I Pray i'm forgiven For every bad decision i made Every sister i played Cause i'm still paranoid to this day And it's nobody fault i made the decisions i made This is the life i chose or rather the life that chose me If you can't respect that your whole perspective is wack Maybe you'll love me when i fade to black If you can't respect that your whole perspective is wack Maybe you'll love me when i fade to black [repeat 2 more times to fade] |
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(Are you not entertained?)
(Are..you..not..entertained?) (Is this not why you're here?) Uh, Uh, Huh Turn the music up Turn me down Guru...Lets go get 'em again This time it's for the money my nigga Brooklyn stand up [Verse One] There's never been a nigga this good for this long This hood Or this pop, this hot Or this strong With so many different flows This ones for this song The next one I'll switch up This one will get bit up These fucks Too lazy to make up shit They crazy They don't...paint pictures They just trace me You know what Soon they forget where they plucked They whole style from And try to reverse the outcome I'm like...tough I'm not a biter I'm a writer For myself and others I say a B.I.G. verse I'm only biggin up my brother Biggin up my borough I'm big enough to do it I'm that thorough Plus I know my own flow is foolish So them rings and things you sing about Bring em out It's hard to yell when the bar-rel's in your mouth I'm in...New sneakers Deuce seaters Few Diva's What more can I tell you Let me spell it for you W-I-Double L-I-E Nobody truer than H-O-V And I'm back for more New York's ambassador Prime Minister back to finish my business up [Chorus: Singing] What more can I say? What more can I do? I give this all to you I know this much is true My Life (Look at my life) (See what I see) [Verse Two] You already know what I'm about Flyin birds down south Movin wet off the step Purple Rain in the drought Stuntin on hoes Brushin off my shirt But ain't nothin on my clothes 'Cept my chain My name Young H-O Pitch the yay faithful Even if they patrol I make payroll Benz paid for Friends they roll Private jets down the Turks and Caicos Cris' case loads I don't give a shit Nigga one life to live I can't let a day go By Without me being fly Fresh to death Head to toe until the day I rest And I don't wear jerseys I'm thirty plus Give me a crisp pair of jeans nigga button ups S dots on my feet Make my sight complete What more can I say Guru play the beat, I'm livin' We gonna let this ride into the hook I'mma snap my fingers on this one What more can I say to you? Get my grown man on LET'S GO (What more can I say?) [Verse Three] Now you know ass is willie When they got you in a mag For like half a billi And your ass ain't Lilly White That mean that shit you write must be illy Either that or your flow is silly It's both I don't mean to boast But damn if I don't brag Them crackers gonna act like I ain't on they ass The Martha Stewart That's far from Jewish Far from a Harvard student Just had the balls to do it And no I'm not through with it In fact I'm just previewin it This ain't the show I'm just EQ'in it One, Two and I won't stop abusin it To groupie girls stop false accusin it Back to the music The Maybach roof is translucent Niggas got a problem Houston What up B They can't shut up me Shut down I Not even P.E. I'mma ride God forgive me for my brash delivery But I remember vividly What these streets did to me So picture me Lettin these clowns nit pick at me and Paint me like a pickiny I will literally Kiss Tee-Tee in the forehead Tell her please forgive me Then squeeze into your forehead I'm not the one to score points off In fact I got a joint to knock your points off Young Hova the God nigga blasphamy I'm at the Trump International Ask for me I ain't never scared I'm everywhere You ain't never there Nigga why would I ever care Pound for pound I'm the best to ever come around here Excluding nobody Look what I embody The soul of a hustler I really ran the street A CEO's mind That marketing plan was me And no I ain't get shot up a whole bunch of times Or make up shit in a whole bunch of lines And I ain't animated, like say a, Busta Rhymes But the real shit you get when you bust down my lines Add that to the fact I went plat a bunch of times Times that by my influence on pop culutre I supposed to be number one on everybody list We'll see what happens when I no longer exist Fuck this man (What more can I say?) |
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Thank you, thank you, thank you, you're far too kind
[Chorus] Now can I get an encore, do you want more Cookin raw with the Brooklyn boy So for one last time I need y'all to roar Now what the hell are you waitin for After me, there shall be no more So for one last time, nigga make some noise [Verse One] Who you know fresher than Hov'? Riddle me that The rest of y'all know where I'm lyrically at Can't none of y'all mirror me back Yeah hearin me rap is like hearin G. Rap in his prime I'm, young H.O., rap's Grateful Dead Back to take over the globe, now break bread I'm in, Boeing jets, Global Express Out the country but the blueberry still connect On the low but the yacht got a triple deck But when you Young, what the fuck you expect? Yep, yep Grand openin, grand closin God your man Hov' cracked the can open again Who you gon' find doper than him with no pen just draw off inspiration Soon you gon' see you can't replace him with cheap imitations for DESE GENERATIONS [Chorus] - 1/2 {What the hell are you waiting forrrr?} [Verse Two] {*sighs*} Look what you made me do, look what I made for you Knew if I paid my dues, how will they pay you When you first come in the game, they try to play you Then you drop a couple of hits, look how they wave to you From Marcy to Madison Square To the only thing that matters in just a matter of years (yea) As fate would have it, Jay's status appears to be at an all-time high, perfect time to say goodbye When I come back like Jordan, wearin the 4-5 It ain't to play games witchu It's to aim at you, probably maim you If I owe you I'm blowin you to smithereeens Cocksucker take one for your team And I need you to remember one thing (one thing) I came, I saw, I conquered From record sales, to sold out concerts So muh'fucker if you want this encore I need you to scream, 'til your lungs get sore [Interlude] OWWWW! It's star time This man is MADE! He's KILLIN all y'all jive turkeys Do y'all want more of the Jigga man? Well if y'all want more of the Jigga man Then I need y'all to help me, bring him back to stage Say Hova, c'mon say it! HO-VA! HO-VA! Are y'all out there? {*crowd chants "HO-VA! HO-VA!"*} Are y'all out there? C'mon, louder! Yeah, now see that's what I'm talkin bout They love you Jigga - they love you Jigga! [Jay-Z] I like the way this one feel It's so muh'fuckin soulful man! (Whoaaaaaahhhh, whoahhhhhhhhhhhhh, whoahhhhhhhhhhhhh) Yeah {*crowd still chanting*} okay [Verse Three] So this here is the victory lap Then I'm lea-vin, that's how you get me back After a year of them 16's, it's one point two And that's two point four, and I'm only doin two You wanted to gain attention new dudes I can get you BET and TRL too You wanna be in the public, send your budget Well fuck it, I ain't budgin! Young did it to death, you gotta love it Record companies told me I couldn't cut it Now look at me, all star-studded Golfer above par like I putted All cause the shit I uttered, was utterly ridiculous How sick is this? You want to bang, send Kanye change, send Just some dust Send Hip a grip, then you got' spit A little somethin like this, WOO! {What the hell are you waiting forrrr?} {*piano plays out as crowd cheers loudly*} |
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[Jay-Z]
Wooo! Uh, uh, bounce is back Uhh, uh-uh uh uh, geyeah, uh, your boy is back (Sexy, sexy) I know y'all missed the bounce You need to bounce for the sexy, y'know? Hah, haha, uh, let's get it in Yeah ma [Verse One] Your dude is back, the Maybach Coupe is back Tell the whole world the truth is back You ain't gotta argue about who can rap Cause the proof is back, just go through my raps New York, New York! Yeah, where my troopers at? Where my hustlers, where my boosters at? I don't care what you do for stacks I know the world glued your back to the wall You gotta brawl, do that I been through that, been shot at, shoot back Gotta keep a peace/piece like a Buddhist I ain't a +New Jack+, nobody gon' Wesley Snipe me It's less than likely, move back Let I breathe, Jedi Knight The more space I get the better I write, ohh Whenever I write, but, if, ever I write I need the space to say whatever I like, now I just [Chorus: Jay-Z] + (Pharrell) (change clothes, and go) You know I stay, fresh to death, a boy from the projects And I'ma take you to the top of the globe, so let's go (So let's exchange no, airs and go) Uh-huh, yeah {And girl I promise you, no substitutions} Just me [Verse Two] And I ain't gon' tell you again, let's get ghost in the phantom You can bring your friend, we can make this a tandem Or you can come by yourself if you can stand him Best believe, I sweat out weaves Give +Afro Puffs+ like R.A.G.E. Haul-U get a view could move it Back it on up like a U-Haul truck Then run and tell them ducks you heard Hovi new shit He and the boy Phar-real make beautiful music He is to the East coast what Snoop is To the West, what 'Face is to Houston Young Hov' in the house is so necessary No bra with that blouse, that's so necessary No panties and jeans, that's so necessary Now why you frontin on me, is that necessary? Do I, to you, look like a lame Who don't understand a broad with a mean shoot game Who's up on dot dot dot and Vera Wang Ma are you insane? Let's just (What you want me to do?) [Chorus] [Pharrell] + (Jay-Z) Ha ha! Sexy sexy, ha ha! Sexy sexy (It's so necessary ma) Ha ha! Sexy sexy (woo, that's right, it's a groove) Ha ha! Sexy sexy (uh, uh, it's a groove, uh, bring it back) [Verse Three] Young Hov' in the house is so necessary No bra with that blouse, that's so necessary No panties and jeans, that's so necessary Why you frontin on me? Let's go to my hotel, cause this don't go well with those S. Dots, gotta stay fresh ma Ma, I don't shout with the rest pa Hoe no ma, please respecy my Jiggyness is probably purple label Or that BBC shit or it's probably tailored And y'all niggaz actin way too tough Throw on a suit, get it tapered up, and let's just [Chorus] [Pharrell] + (Jay-Z) Ha ha! Sexy sexy (uh, uh, WOO, sing along) Ha ha! Sexy sexy (yeah, uh.. turn your radio up) Ha ha! Sexy sexy (woo, put your hands in the air if you in the club) Ha ha! Sexy sexy (snap your fingers now) Ha ha! (your boy is back, uh-huh) (the bounce is back, uh, uh woo!) (uh, Young is back, hahahaha - PEACE!!!) |
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You're now tuned into the muh'fuckin greatest
Turn the music up in the headphones Tim, you can go and brush your shoulder off nigga I got you, yeah [Chorus: Jay-Z] If you feelin like a pimp nigga, go and brush your shoulders off Ladies is pimps too, go and brush your shoulders off Niggaz is crazy baby, don't forget that boy told you Get, that, dirt off your shoulder [Verse One] I probably owe it to y'all, proud to be locked by the force Tryin to hustle some things, that go with the Porsche Feelin no remorse, feelin like my hand was forced Middle finger to the Lord, nigga grip I'm a boss Stab the ladies they love me, from the bleachers they screamin All the ballers is bouncin they like the way I be leanin All the rappers be hatin, off the track that I'm makin But all the hustlers they love it just to see one of us make it Came from the bottom the bottom, to the top of the pots Nigga London, Japan and I'm straight off the block Like a running back, get it man, I'm straight off the block I can run it back nigga cause I'm straight with the Roc [Chorus] [Chorus Two] You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder [Verse Two] Your homey Hov' in position, in the kitchen with soda I just whipped up a watch, tryin to get me a Rover Tryin to stretch out the coca, like a wrestler, yessir Keep the Heckler close, you know them smokers'll test ya But like, fifty-two cards when I'm, I'm through dealin Now fifty-two bars come it, now you feel 'em Now, fifty-two cars roll out, remove ceiling In case fifty-two broads come out, now you chillin with a boss bitch of course S.C. on the sleeve At the 40/40 club, ESPN on the screen I paid a grip for the jeans, plus the slippers is clean No chrome on the wheels, I'm a grown-up for real [Chorus] + [Chorus Two] [Verse Three] Your boy back in the building, Brooklyn we back on the map Me and my beautiful beeeeeeeitch in the back of that 'Bach I'm the realest that run it, I just happen to rap I ain't gotta clap at 'em, niggaz scared of that black I drop that +Black, Album+ then I back, out it As the best rapper alive nigga axe about me From Bricks to Billboards, from grams to Grammys The O's to opposite, Orphan Annie You gotta pardon Jay, for sellin out the Garden in a day I'm like a young Marvin in his hey' I'm a hustler homey, you a customer crony Got some, dirt on my shoulder, could you brush it off for me? [Chorus] + [Chorus Two] You're now tuned into the muh'fuckin greatest Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |
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[Intro: Threats the Pimp]
Yo wassup pimp this Threats That's right, that's the - the that's, that's threats pimp And I'm serious about mine, I'm so sin-surr And I, nigga I'll kill ya, I'll chop ya up Put ya inside the mattress like drug money nigga [Intro: Jay-Z] Yeah, I done told you niggaz 9 or 10 times stop fuckin with me I done told you niggaz 9 albums, stop fuckin with me I done told you niggaz The 9 on me, stop fuckin with me You niggaz must got 9 lives 9th wonder [Verse One] Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya Am I frightenin ya? Shall I continue? I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song I let it hum to ya, the other one sing along Now it's a duet, and you wet, when you check out the technique from the 2 tecs and I don't need two lips To blow this like a trumpet you dumb shit This is a un-usual musical I conduc' it You lookin at the black Warren Buffett so all critics can duck sic I don't care if you C. Delores Tuck-it Or you Bill O'Reilly, you only rylin me up For three years, they had me peein out of a cup Now they bout to free me up, whatchu think I'm gon' be, what? Rehabilitated, man I still feel hatred I'm young black and rich so they wanna strip me naked, but You never had me like Christina Aguiler-y But catch me down the Westside, drivin like Halle Berry Or the FDR, in the seat of my car Screamin out the sunroof death to y'all You can't kill me, I live forever through these bars I put the wolves on ya, I put a price on your head The whole hood'll want ya, you startin to look like bread I send them boys at ya, I ain't talkin bout Feds Nigga them body-snatchers, nigga you heard what I said [Chorus: Jay-Z] I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the mornin Put your smarts on the side of your garment Nigga stop fuckin with me R. -- I. -- P. [Interlude: Threats] That's right there nigga, nigga I'm wild Nigga I keep trash bags with me Never know when you gotta dump a nigga out This sin-surr, this some sin-surr SHIT right hurr! [Verse Two] Grown man I put hands on you I dig a hole in the desert, they build The Sands on you Lay out blueprint plans on you We Rat Pack niggaz, let Sam tap dance on you Then, I Sinatra shot ya God damn you ... I put the boy in the box like David Blaine Let the audience watch, it ain't a thang Y'all wish I was frontin, I George Bush the button For the oil in you in your car lift up your hood nigga run it Then lift up your whole hood like you got oil under it Your boy got the goods y'all don't want nuttin of it Like, castor oil, I Castor Troy you Change your face or the bullets change all that for you ... y'all niggaz is targets Y'all garages for bullets, please don't make me park it in your upper level, valet a couple strays from the 38 special, nigga, God bless you [Chorus] [Interlude: Threats] Yeah I'm threatening ya, YEAH I'm threatening ya! Who you thank you dealin with? They call me Threats, nigga I been makin threats since I been in kindergarten nigga! Huh, ask about me, see if you ain't heard [Verse Three] When the gun is tucked, untucked, nigga you dies like numchuks held by the Jet L-I I'm the one, thus meanin no one must try No two, no three, no four, know why? Because one's four-five might blow yo' high You ain't gotta go to church to get to know yo' God It's a match made in heaven when I {*blaow*} 'splay the 7 Put you on the nigga news, UPN at 11 Where you been, you ain't heard, got the word that I'm {*blaow blaow*} that I'm so sin-surr? I'm especially Joe Pesci with a grin I will kill you, commit suicide, and kill you again That's right [Chorus] [Outro: Threats] Whattup? Motherfucker I keep three motherfuckers what? Nigga I'll throw a Molotov cocktail through your momma's momma's house Nigga wassup? - where everybody live! Undercover nigga take your teeth out your mouth nigga Chew your food up and put the shit back in your mouth nigga and help you swallow Nigga I take a mop handle off nigga And sweep nigga - hold on, I'll be - nigga what? |
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(Woooooo)
(Yeah) (Turn the music up turn the lights down i'm in my zone) [Chorus] Thank God for grantin me this moment of clarity This moment of honesty The world'll feel my truths Through my Hard Knock Life time My Gift and The Curse I gave you volume after volume of my work So you can feel my truths I built the Dynasty by being one of the realest niggas out Way beyond a Reasonable Doubt (Yall can't fill my shoes) From my Blueprint beginnings To that Black Album endin Listen close you hear what i'm about Nigga feel my truths [Verse One] When pop died Didn't cry Didn't know him that well Between him doin Heroine And me doin Crack sales With that in the egg shell Standin at the tabernacle Rather the church Pratendin to be hurt Wouldn't work So a smirk was all on my face Like damn that mans face was just like my face So pop I forgive you For all the shit that I live through It wasn't all your fault Homie you got caught And to the same game I fault That Uncle Ray lost My big brothers and so many others I saw I'm just glad we got to see each other Talk and re-meet each other Save a place in Heaven Til the next time we meet forever [Chorus] [Verse Two] The music business hate me Cause the industry ain't make me Hustlers and boosters embrace me And the music I be makin I dump down for my audience And double my dollars They criticize me for it Yet they all yell "Holla" If skills sold Truth be told I'd probably be Lyricly Talib Kweli Truthfully I wanna rhyme like Common Sense (But I did five Mil) I ain't been rhymin like Common Sense When your sense got that much in common And you been hustlin since Your inception Fuck perception Go with what makes sense Since I know what i'm up against We as rappers must decide what's most impor-tant And I can't help the poor if i'm one of them So I got rich and gave back To me that's the win, win The next time you see the homie and his rims spin Just know my mind is workin just like them (The rims that is) [Chorus] [Verse Three] My homie Sigel's on a tier Where no tears should fall Cause he was on the block where no squares get off See in my inner circle all we do is ball Til we all got triangles on our wall He ain't just rappin for the platinum Yall record I recall Cause I really been there before Four scores and seven years ago Prepared to flow Prepare for war I shall fear no man You don't hear me though These words ain't just paired to go In one ear out the other ear NO YO My balls and my word is alls I have What you gonna do to me? Nigga scars'll scab What you gonna box me homie? I can dodge and jab Three shots couldn't touch me Thank God for that I'm strong enough to carry Biggie Smalls on my back And the whole BK nigga holla back [Chorus] |
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If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain′t one I got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol Foes that wanna make sure my casket′s closed Rap critics that say he′s ′Money, Cash, Hoes′ I′m from the hood stupid, what type of facts are those? If you grew up with holes in your zapatoes You′d celebrate the minute you was havin dough I′m like fuck critics, you can kiss my whole asshole If you don′t like my lyrics, you can press fast forward Got beef with radio if I don′t play they show they don′t play my hits - well I don′t give a shit, SO! Rap mags try and use my black ass So advertisers can give ′em more cash for ads, fuckers! I don′t know what you take me as Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has I′m from, rags to riches, niggaz I ain′t dumb I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain′t one - hit me! 99 problems but a bitch ain′t one If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain′t one - hit me! The year is ninety-four, in my trunk is raw In my rearview mirror is the motherfuckin law Got two choices y′all, pull over the car or (hmm) bounce on the Devil, put the pedal to the floor And I ain′t tryin to see no highway chase with Jake Plus I got a few dollars, I can fight the case So I, pull over to the side of the road ′Son do you know why I′m stoppin you for?′ Cause I′m young and I′m black and my hat′s real low Or do I look like a mindreader sir? I don′t know Am I under arrest or should I guess some mo′? ′Well you was doin fifty-five in the fifty-four; license and registration and step out of the car - are you carryin a weapon on you? I know a lot of you are′ I ain′t steppin out of shit, all my papers legit ′Well do you mind if I look around the car a little bit?′ Well my glove compartment is locked, so is the trunk in the back And I know my rights, so you gon′ need a warrant for that ′Aren′t you sharp as a tack! You some type of lawyer or somethin, somebody important or somethin?′ Child I ain′t passed the bar, but I know a little bit Enough that you won′t illegally search my shit ′Well we′ll see how smart you are when the canine comes′ I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain′t one - hit me! 99 problems but a bitch ain′t one If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain′t one - hit me! 99 problems but a bitch ain′t one If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain′t one - hit me! Now once upon a time, not too long ago A nigga like myself had to strongarm a hoe This is not a hoe in the sense of havin a pussy But a pussy havin no God damn sense, try an′ push me I try to ignore him, talk to the Lord Pray for him, but some fools just love to perform You know the type, loud as a motorbike But wouldn′t bust a grape in a fruit fight And only thing that′s gon′ happen is I′ma get to clappin and he and his boys gon′ be yappin to the Captain And there I go, trapped in the Kit-Kat again Back through the system with the riff-raff again Fiends on the floor, scratchin again Paparazzis with they cameras, snappin them D.A. try to give a nigga shaft again Half a mill′ for bail cause I′m African All because this fool was harassin them Tryin to play the boy like he′s saccharin But ain′t nuttin sweet bout how I hold my gun I got 99 problems B and a bitch ain′t one - hit me! 99 problems but a bitch ain′t one If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain′t one - hit me! 99 problems but a bitch ain′t one If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain′t one - hit me! .. Whoo! Whoo! Uh, uh Havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems and a bitch ain′t one, ha ha! You crazy for this one Rick! It′s your boy! |
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This is a public service announcement
Sponsored by Just Blaze and the good folks at Roc-A-Fella Records "Fellow Americans, it is with the utmost pride and sincerity that I present this recording, as a living testiment and recollection of history in the making during our generation." [Jay-Z] Allow me to re-introduce myself My name is Hov', OH, H-to-the-O-V I used to move snowflakes by the O-Z I guess even back then you can call me CEO of the R-O-C, Hov'! Fresh out the fryin pan into the fire I be the, music biz number one supplier Flyer/flier than a piece of paper bearin my name Got the hottest chick in the game wearin my chain, that's right Hov', OH - not D.O.C. But similar to them letters, "No One Can Do it Better" I check cheddar like a food inspector My homey Strict told me, "Dude finish your breakfast" So that's what I'ma do, take you back to the dude with the Lexus, fast-forward the jewels and the necklace Let me tell you dudes what I do to protect this I shoot at you actors like movie directors {*laughing*} This ain't a movie dog (oh shit) "Now before I finish, let me just say I did not come here to show out, did not come here to impress you Because to tell you the truth when I leave here I'm GONE! And I don't care WHAT you think about me - but just remember, when it hits the fan brother, whether it's next year, ten years, twenty years from now, you're gonna be able to say that these brothers lied to you JACK!" [Jay-Z] Ving ain't lie I done came through the block in everything that's fly I'm like, Che Guevara with bling on, I'm complex I never claimed to have wings on Nigga I get mine - by any means on whenever there's a drought Get your umbrellas out because, that's when I brainstorm You can blame Shawn, but I ain't invent the game I just rolled the dice, tryin to get some change And I do it twice, ain't no sense in me lyin as if, I am a different man And I could blame my environment but there ain't no reason why I be buyin expensive chains Hope you don't think youse as hardy Only a fews-us niggaz, gettin high within the game If you do then, how would you explain? I'm ten years removed, still the vibe is in my veins I got a hustler spirit, nigga period Check out my hat yo, peep the way I wear it Check out my swag' yo, I walk like a ballplayer No matter where you go, you are what you are player And you can try to change but that's just as hot player Man, you was who you was 'fore you got here Only God can judge me, so I'm gone Either love me, or leave me alone |
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[Intro: Jay-Z Talking]
Uhh, this feel right right here Quik It's like it's 'sposed to happen this one right here Young! God damn.. .. let me justify my thug on this one right here [Verse One] It goes one o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock rock Five six seven o'clock, eight o'clock rock Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, the party bout to pop Then - (Roc-A-Fella y'all), it's your boy S. Dot And I ain't never been to jail; I ain't never pay a nigga to do no dirt for me I was scared to do myself I will never tell even if it means sittin in a cell I ain't never ran, never will I ain't never been smacked; a nigga better keep his hands to himself or get clapped for what's under that man's belt I never asked for nothin I don't demand of myself Honesty, loyalty, friends and then wealth Death before dishonor and I tell you what else I tighten my belt 'fore I beg for help Foolish pride is what held me together through the years I wasn't felt which is why I ain't never played myself I just play the hand I'm dealt, I can't say I've never knelt before God and asked for better cards at times to no avail But I never sat back feelin sorry for myself If you don't give me heaven I'll raise hell 'Til it's heaven [Chorus: imitating Madonna] Justify my thug! {*"For you!" - Run-D.M.C.*} My thug.. (hoping..) My thug.. (praying..) for you to justify my thug! My thug.. (hoping..) My thug.. (praying..) for you.. {*"For you! Fresh" - Run-D.M.C.*} [Verse Two] Now if you shoot my dog, I'ma kill yo' cat Just the unwritten laws in rap - know dat For every action there's a reaction, don't have me relapsin Relaxin's what I'm about, but about mine Don't be actin like you can't see street action Take me back to +Reasonable Doubt+ time You see my mind's on the finish line, facin the wreck I put my muh'fuckin faith in the tec, tell Satan not yet You understand I am chasin my breath I am narrowly escapin my death, oh yes I am the Michael Schumacher of the Roc roster Travellin Mach 5, barrelin, my power can stop God God forgive me but I can't let them deliver me to you Until, I won this race, then eventually My engine gon' burn out, I get whatever is meant for me However it turns out fine - red line! [Chorus] [Verse Three] They say an eye for an eye, we both lose our sight And two wrongs don't make a right But when you been wrong and you know all along that it's just one life At what point does one fight? (Good question right!) 'Fore you knock the boy, try to put your dogs in his Ten-and-a-halfs, for a minute-and-a-half Bet that stops all the grinnin and the laughs When you play the game of life and the win ain't in the bag When your options is none and the pen is all you have or the block, niggaz standin tight, there's limits on the ave Tryin to cop or shot-call theyself cleansin in the cash But can't put they name on paper cause, then you on blast Mr. President, there's drugs in our residence Tell me what you want me to do, come break bread with us Mr. Governor, I swear there's a cover up Every other corner there's a liquor store - fuck is up? [Chorus] |
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See, See, See
I'm from the murder capitol where we murder for capitol See, See, See Kanyeeze you did it again you a genius nigga So you niggas change your attitude 'for they askin what happened to you [Verse One] Lord forgive him He got them dark forces in him But he also got a rightous cause for sinnin Them a murder me so I gotta murder them first Emergency doctors performin procedures Jesus I ain't tryin to be facetious But "Vengance is mine" said the Lord You said it better than all Leave niggas on deaths door Breathin off res-por-rators for killin my best boy, HATERS On perminate hiatus as I skate In the Mabach Benz Fly this as i'm late Pumpin "Brown Sugar" by D'Angelo In Los Angeles Like an evangelist I can introduce you to your maker Bring you closer to nature Ashes after they cremate you bastards Hope you been readin your psalms and chapters Payin your ties being good Catholics I'm commin [Chorus] See, See, See I'm from the murder capitol where we murder for capitol See, See, See So you niggas change your attitude 'for they askin what happened to you [Verse Two] Yes This is Holly war I wet cha all with the Holly water Spray from the Hetckler Koch auto Matic all the static shall cease to exist Like a sematical I throw a couple at you Take six Spread love to all of my dead thugs I'll pour out a little Louie til I head above Yes Sir And when I perish The meek shall inherit the earth Until that time it's on a poppin Church Like Don Bishop The fifth upon cock either Lift up your soul or give the Holly ghost please I leave ya in somebodys Catedrial And stuntin like Evil Kenevil I'll let you see where that bright light lead you The more you talk the more you irkin us The more you gonna need memorial services The Black Albums second verse is like Devil's Pie please save some dessert for us Man I gotta get my soul right I gotta get these Devils out my life These cowards gonna make a nigga ride They won't be happy til somebody dies Man I gotta get my soul right 'For i'm locked up for my whole life Evertime it seems it's all right Somebody want they soul to rise (I'll chase you off of this Earth) [Verse Three] I got dreams of holdin a Nine milla To Bobs killa Askin him "why?" as my eyes fill up These days I can't wake up with a dry pillow Gone but not forgotten holmes I still feel ya SO...Curse the day that birthed the bastard Who caused your Church mass Reverse the crash Reverse the blast And reverse the car Reverse the day, and there you are Bob Allah Lord forgive him we all have sined But Bobs a good dude please let him in And if you feel in my heart that I long for revenge Please blame it on the sun of the mournin Thanks Again |
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Young! For life
Once again it's the life, yessss (I don't know why, I.. get so high on) It's intoxicatin man, y'all don't know why you do what you do (Get so high on, get so high - high off the life) [Verse One] The allure of breakin the law Is always too much for me to ever ignore I gotta thing for them big body Benzes, it dulls my senses In love with a V-Dub engine Man I'm high off life, fuck it I'm wasted Bey Venay kicks, or them Marvin Kaye wrists My women friend get tennis bracelets Trips to Venice, get they winters replaced with the sun, it ain't even fun no more I'm jaded Man, it's just a game, I just play it to play it I put my feet in the footprints left to me Without sayin a word, the ghetto's got a mental telepathy Man my brother hustled so, naturally Up next is me, but what perplexes me Shit I know how this movie ends, still I play the starrin role in "Hovito's Way" [Chorus] It's just life, I solemnly swear To change my approach, stop shavin coke Stay away from hoes, put down the toast Cause I be doin the most.. oh no! But every time I felt that was that, it called me right back It called me right back, man it called me right back - oh no! [Verse Two] I'm like a Russian mobster, drinkin distilled vodka 'Til I'm under the field with Hoffa, it's real Pillow-top him like a toupee Mix the water, with the soda Turn the pot up make a souflee All of y'all can get it like group-ays in your 2-way I'm livin proof that crime do pay Say hooray to the bad guy, and all the broads puttin cars in they name for the stars of the game Puttin 'caine in they bras and their tomorrows on the train All in the name of love Just to see that love locked in chains and the family came over the house to take back, everything that they claimed Or even the worst pain is the distress Learnin you're the mistress only after that love gets slain And the anger and the sorrow mixed up leads to mistrust Now it gets tough to ever love a-gain But the allure of the game, keeps callin your name To all the Lauras of the world, I feel your pain To all the Christies in every cities and Tiffany Lanes We all hustlers, in love with the same thang [Chorus] [Verse Three] I never felt more alive than ridin shotgun In Cline's green 5 until the cops pulled guns And I tried to smoke weed to give me the fix I need what the game did to my pulse, with no results And you can treat your nose and still won't come close The game is a lightbulb with eleventy-million volts And I'm just a mark, addicted to the floss And doors lift from the floor and the tops come off By any means necessary, whatever the cost Even if it means lives is lost.. And I can't explain why, I just love to get high Drink life, smoke the blueberry sky, blink twice I'm in the blueberry 5, you blink three times I may not even be alive How mean James Dean couldn't escape the allure Dyin young, leavin a good lookin corpse Of course [Chorus] Once again it's the life I said it's the life Once again it's the life - oh no! (I don't why I) why I (get so high on) get so (get so high on) uh-huh (get so high - high off the life!) Hahahahahahaha - woo! |
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"My 1st Song"
[Notorious B.I.G. interview] I'm just, tryin to stay above water y'know Just stay busy, stay workin Puff told me like, the key to this joint The key to staying, on top of things is treat everything like it's your first project, knahmsayin? Like it's your first day like back when you was an intern Like, that's how you try to treat things like, just stay hungry [Verse One: Jay-Z] Uhh, uhh, yes, yes Y'all wanna know, why he don't stop Y'all wanna know, why he don't flop Let me tell you pe-eople why Came from the bottom of the block I When I was born, it was sworn, I was never gon' be shit Had to pull the opposite out this bitch Had to get my ri-ide on Eyes on the prize, Shawn knew I had to Had to had to get these chips Had to make moves like Olajuwon Started out sellin dimes and nicks Graduated to a brick No exaggeration, my infatuation with the strip Legendary like a schoolboy Crushin merely nearly every every chick Heavy shit - that's how schoolboy got whipped And got left on some "Just +Me, Myself and I+" On some Trugoy shit Had your boys threw place up, to a place of no return Had to play with fire and get burned Only way the boy ever gon' learn Had to lay way in the cut, 'til I finally got my turn Now I'm on top in the spot that I earned [Chorus] It's my life - it's my pain and my struggle The song that I sing to you it's my ev-ery-thing Treat my first like my last, and my last like my first And my thirst is the same as - when I came It's my joy and my tears and the laughter it brings to me It's my ev-ery-thing [Verse Two: Jay-Z] Like I never rode in a limo Like I just dropped flows to a demo Like it's ninety-two again and And I got O's in the rental Back in the Stu' again, no prob' livin was a whole lot simpler When you think back, you thought that you would never make it this far, then you take advantage of the luck you handed Or the talent, you been given Ain't no, half steppin, ain't no, no slippin Ain't no different from a block that's hidden Gotta get it while the getting's good Gotta strike while the iron's hot, 'fore you stop Then you gotta bid it, good riddance Goodbye, this is my second major breakup My first was, with a pager With a hooptie, a cookpot, and the GAME This one's with the stool, with the stage, with the fortune Maybe not the fortune, but certainly the FAME [Chorus] It's my life - my pain and my struggle The song that I sing to you it's my ev-ery-thing Treat my first like my last, and my last like my first And my thirst is the same as - when I came It's my joy and my tears and my laughter it brings to me It's my ev-ery-thing Treat my first like my last, and my last like my first And my thirst like the first song I sang [Outro: Jay-Z] Woo! It's like the blues - we gon' ride out on this one Ta-tah, be-hah Yo Hah, 'member you was makin them dashes for them niggaa at radio and shit? Clark Kent, that was good lookin out nigga Carlene - who ever thought we'd make it this far homey? Sha, they can't stop us, knahmsayin? Lenny S Dame whattup? Robbin the bank Niggaz thought we was crazy man, 'member uhh You had that fucked up ass handwritin You was writin all the numbers that we was spendin now for the videos we was doin ourselves, whattup? Original Flavor, your accountant was crazy wrong and shit But we we still put it together Bigs, whassup? 'Member we went to St. Thomas and uh But y'all my nizzle, your dog peed on homey leg and shit at his crib - I think that was Rudy And they was havin a lil trouble with the pool You and Ta-tah was laughin Emory was there, whattup Emory? What up Ta? Hip-Hop, whattup man? Ay, ay Hobb, you ain't, you ain't have no uhh You ain't have no muh'fuckin seat on your, on your bicycle Now you uhh, the head of black music That's what I'm talkin bout right there homey - G, whattup G? Yessir, e'rybody in the Roc Hey Guru, I know you spoiled man I be takin them shits in one take You gon' have to punch niggaz shit, STICK IT, you gon' be tight OG One, whattup? I'm a little upset that you wasn't involved in this whole process But it's all good - whassup Dash? My whole family, my nephew, cousin Angie, whassup? Te-Tee (B, B, B, B) Mom, you made the album, how crazy is that? Bob Allah, rest in peace My pops, rest in peace (Sup A.J.?) Biggie Smalls, rest in peace Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh Nigga, I'm bout to go golfin man Ay, I might even have me a cappuccino, fuck it! I'm goin somewhere nice where no mosquitos at nigga Holla at me - it's your boy! |
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가슴네트워크 Review :: 2004-01-03
Subject : Jay-Z - The Black Album (Roc-a-Fella,2003)
