Intro:
Ha ha, ha ha, Roc-a-Fella y`all
Futuristic shit beeotch
Uh, what the fuck? How we do. How we do. Uh ha
Verse 1:
Triple platnum nigga with the solid gold fade
All that nickle and dime shit, don`t hold no weight
Fortune 5, top 5 in the Forbes (you`ll see) as you
Thumb through the Source I read the Ride report
Class C, cold me down with the plastic
That`s all I Ask Of You, like Raphael Saadiq
At the hotel, Nico, robbin` the val suite
My people`s eyes through the peep hole
I`m lovin` you down freak as I
Shoot through the city like a rumor
Not soon enough, to stop `em from spreadin` the news
Paper headin` read Jay-Z breaths, 80 degrees
the only thing to cool them off is a Malibu day breeze
Can`t sop for the feds, say cheese
You know they wanna take a nigga picture
Pray for the day to get ya, but I`m a parlay and stay richer for now
Jigga hasn`t done dirt in a while
YOu know my stomach getin` weak from livin` on the streets for real
Tryin` to oversee it from suites, orderin` eats
At the top where the criminal minds meet
That`s where the cream is (right) , that`s where your dream is (well ain`t
it?)
Hook:
You`re only a customer (uh)
Walkin` in the presence of hustlers
You spend money all night long
All night long - Mary J. Blige
Verse 2:
A-yo my youth had a nigga too aggressive
I use to speed excessive, both eyes closed
No thought infested
Hittin` pot holes, cop-o`s will snatch your weight
But your game most precious
Had to rethink things, is pinky ring worth
Life on the run and time served in Sing Sing
I don`t know to tell the truth
If I`m pressed for doe, I got to consoul Irv Gotti y`all
Irv Gotti:
Heads got to roll
Jay-Z:
I was raised to live, Lord I pray you forgive
If not, I just handle it like Jason Kidd
What you`re facin` is official (it`s official)
Most cases when Im blazin` won`t miss you (won`t miss you)
Case and point mad bullshitted issue
I see it to the end, my writting is so personal
My heart bleedin` out my pen, make no mistake aobut me
It`s only one nigga livin`, I got a half a cake about me
I got love, to make a nigga die bleedin` is nothin`
You make a motherfucker die breathin` then you sayin` somthing, beeotch
Hook (X3)
More flavor than y`all can image havin`
Graphic like Sega, Saturn, traffic like the Bodega
It just so happens, you caught me at the the tail end of my dive
My brain ain`t right from inhaling the work of my life
Fuck it, 3`s in ya, had to hold
D.C. high pissy off Cristle
3 G`s high seasoned Bacardy, UV`s
Blesses my body, we be fresh at the party
Play yourself go head if you don`t no the ledge
It`s like spittin` to God
Get it in your face fuckin` with niggas over your head
Take your time with me, shiftee
Use to make Coke stretch like the samplin` a 950
Shit with that, while I`m o a Kawasoki bike
At the light, doin` a pike, with a bitch on the back
And take flight, my life like it was directed by Hype
In 35 slow-mo, with the Rockafella logo
Accapoco to Arruba, bay breezes and caviar baluga
Very little loot, a loser
In the grashish blueish, Les Coup it`s the root of evil in these people
Hook (X3)
