A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

JAY-Z

"Here We Go (J.D. Remix)"

[Hook: Jermaine Dupri]
We talk sh*t, 'cause we are the sh*t
Never looked back since we started it
When ya'll want heat we provide it, ride it
'Til the wheels fall of, shaking 'em all off
Six figure n*ggas with it, over did it, spit it
In ways that'll cause a rush
Keeping your face in a state of disgust
Hating but still trying to be like us

[Verse One: Jay-Z]
Twist the lime in the Corona, grab my crime diploma
Then head to the block, to pull up five in the morn'
sh*t, I need to chrome up, become a home owner
Look, life's a b*tch, but I'm on her
I almost cracked this, no more hustling backwards
Up the Ave I zip, n*gga trying to have sh*t
I'm your average ghetto n*gga turned maverick
You'd never, said to a n*gga "Whatever for the cash, I'm with it"
I don't have step, I leave it in your averix
Then shoot it in the air, whatever I have left
Outlaw, simply I out-draw y'all
Whether clubs or the street, I out ball y'all
n*ggas ain't ready, I doubt all y'all
Fly ass n*ggas I re-route all y'all
If it ain't for the paper I don't show my face up
Make a bet, I turn the ace up, $hort and Jay, what!

[Verse Two: Too $hort]
I never stop making money, don't give 'em no slack
Drinking dirty motherf*ckers til a ho' come back
With my scratch, b*tch I was born to mack
To uphold the pimping, I was sworn to that
I hear a lot of sh*t talking when I listen to rap
Only a few MC's get to hang that plaque
On the wall rappers ball, but they don't live phat
n*gga, I doubt if you go Gold or Platinum
What we do has only been mastered by a few
I take a half a million tapes, sell 'em straight to you
All that sh*t n*ggas talking just can't be real
I dont need a record deal, I need eighteen wheels
I roll right up in the hood, I got tapes for sell
b*tches running in their house, they can't wait to tell
Somebody, she got a new Too $hort tape
And he's spitting pimp game with his homeboy Jay

[Hook]

[Verse Three: Too $hort]
Now here they come again, the golddiggers trying to get paid
Wanna trick the old rich n*ggas, trying to get laid
She'll suck his di*k, as soon as she meet him
Don't have to sell a body for me, I don't need her
To turn tricks for me, how much you cost b*tch?
I'm all about large bank deposits
On and off the mic I always set trends
Either you see me with b*tches, or I'm rolling with pimps
Brook-lyn to Oakland, I keep smokin'
Jay-Z and Short Dog at these hoes again
The kinda n*ggas that'll take a square b*tch around the corner
Put this pimp game on her
I don't f*ck with broke hoes and I don't trick
But I'll still rub my big ass di*k on her clit
Get her hooked, wanna be mine I need some money
If she ain't kicking in all the time she don't want me

[Verse Four: Jay-Z]
Hoes, flows, money, cars
Y'all wannabe stars, can't f*ck with none of these bars
This is real n*gga rap, we can spit it through the mic
And you can feel n*ggas scratch, and sell a mil', if that
So real when we drop this sh*t it's in trouble
When I guess the pair you gotta ship it double
I'm the independent phenom, y'all miniature dons
Wannabe Jigga, pops styles and Hennessy richer
When I die, leave my canopy richer
I put it down hard ever since I entered the picture
Can't f*ck with me for records to the recreational center
I got it wrapped y'all from the Grammys to the back park
Short dog y'all, what you thought y'all, Oakland, BK, New York y'all
Be the voice for the streets we supply for years
And go Platinum on our most quiet years

[Hook: 3x]

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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