[Jay-Z, (Sauce)]
[Jay-Z talking:]
Sauce mothafuckin, jigga, jigga feel this...
[Chorus]
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
(If ya feel me) Fuck `em all day fuck `em all night we don`t
love these hoes
(This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me)
If ya feel me (Fuck `em all day fuck `em all night we don`t love
these hoes)
[Verse 1]
Yeah (If ya want some put ya guns up it`s on)
Ladies know that when the sun`s up I`m gone
(Fuck them bitches though digits though)
Fuck, now if I bring it niggas know whaat
(All black gat with the mack out)
I take shorty to the rest blow her back out
sun dress undress throw her back out (biotch)
(in & out like a crack house) keep it moving
(Face off with the .38 scraped off)
keep shorty maced can`t throw a 4-4 eight ball
know your place (so it starts when ya least expect)
(the yeast infect) you don`t imitate bitches
(piece protected) so I hear you hate bitches?
(love the dough, ya flow irritate niggas)
fuck them though, it`s all out and
have a fall out I fucked ya girl
(On top now we call out fuck the world)
(Face Off!)
[Chorus]
(This gos out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me)
If ya feel me (Fuck `em all day fuck `em all night we don`t love
these hoes)
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
(If ya feel me) Fuck `em all day fuck `em all night we don`t
love these hoes
[Verse 2]
(I apologize ladies I`m lovin` ya right)
you must be used to me trickin` but we fuckin` tonight
(No wine no dine) no wheelin` the whip
all night long just feelin` the dick be-i-itch
(Sauce mothafuckin` slayin` I`m sayin` with no delayin`)
(Can you beat that? I eat that) you just playin`
nigga you neva know what a chick could do
(pull the trigga too) check the shit jigga do
(My crew) mackin` the same bitch (I do)
(back man stack grands) daddy like I you
(Love them hoes jigga?) Ha how that sound?
women start to fall we all bat around
Let my whole team hit it (scatter `round)
you never seen wit it (pat `em down)
check for cream in it (These riches)
got nu`hin to do wit these bitches
(Nothin` y`all can do to stop these digits)
(Face Off!)
[Chorus]
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
(If ya feel me) Fuck `em all day fuck `em all night we don`t
love these hoes
(This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me)
If ya feel me (Fuck `em all day fuck `em all night we don`t love
these hoes)
[Verse 3]
(Can I touch that?) what`s that? Leave it for dead.
Keep ya arm over ya face my nigga (keep ya head)
(keep a mind to survive if ya sleep ya dead)
Stay fly `til ya die nigga deep with prayer
(with each word ya say I guess the beef is dead)
Ladies & gentlemen (like impeach the Prez)
(Val Kilmer style nigga draw heat with feds)
(broad day like De Niro shoot all day)
I`m the man fuckin` the tracks and you just foreplay
get a hit I, I come through, blow up, you spit out
What keep it cocked faithfully like salop
with one in the drop don`t get hit up
(I be the 4-5th flamer hoes bitch shamer)
(clap cats a snitch she`ll give ya whole click name up)
Look I done came up (and) thought a whole game up
meet me in the square with one in the chamber
(The Face Off nigga)
[Chorus]
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
(If ya feel me) Fuck `em all day fuck `em all night we don`t
love these hoes
(This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me)
If ya feel me (Fuck `em all day fuck `em all night we don`t love
these hoes)
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya gun up (in the air) if ya feel me
Fuck `em all day (fuck `em all night) we don`t love these hoes
["Track Masters" is whispered softly 8X in background]
(This goes out... put ya guns up in the air) if ya feel me if ya feel
(Fuck `em all day fuck `em all night we don`t love these hoes) Yeah!!
This goes out (to my Brooklyn crew)...
