Come On Baby
[Swizz Beatz]
Put your hands up
Put your hands up
Ladies and gentleman your now rockin' with the best
Just Blaze
Put your hands up Swizzy
Put your hands up Diddy
One two three here we go

Microphone check one two what is this?
The Yardfather coming to give n***as the business
It's so beyond rap, c*ck sucker we live this
So um, come on baby, come on, come on and witness
The next ten years of this sh*t, the slickness is deliberate
Lyrically it's as sick as it get
I been in the pen, been in the jects, been in the inter taps
I been in the Benz, been in the Lex, been in the M.S.X
Yes, I run ringers around the fraudulent type
Come here and I'll show you that I spit on just more than a mic
I make it hard for n***as to breathe, please
These wicked emcees squeeze
Hammers like the Pampers used to squeeze, hit the D.T
I Mike Tyson ya eye, put a permanent ring around it
Then go run in the booth and sing about it
Look, if I don't hurt the n***a that play with my wealth
I'm like me on Entourage god, I'm playing myself, let's go

[Hook: Swizz Beatz]
Hold up, the pump will make you jump up, put ya body in the tr-unk
Keep goin now..
New York, and all the way to Cali and the South'll make ya ju-ump
Don't touch the boy, yup!
Hold up, the pump will make ya jump up, put ya body in the tr-unk
I'll whip ya a** from
New York, and all the way to Cali and the South'll make ya ju-ump

You ain't crazy, don't you play me, don't you know it's Jay-Z?
When internets ask who's the best, why won't you say me?
Don't you hate me? C'mon baby, wasn't all gravy
I took my lumps comin up just like a boxer baby
My first style - hmm, maybe if I stuttered, maybe
But then I slowed it down, brought it from the gutter baby
Matter fact, I don't give a F**K where you rate me
Record labels told me, "No" - guess what the f**k they made me?!
Super rich! Stupid b*t*hes know I'm super vicious
Like, standin over a wounded man wit, two biscuits
Let's get it clear like eucalyptus, if you conflicted
My flow is like the Cuban Missile Crisis
N***a, my near misses are crisis
I hide a couple rare jewels in a verse
For my n***as that like to listen like this
Hahahaha - you gotta let it do what it do, baby

Four finger, three finger, two finger, one finger
Humdinger, gun slinger, that's what I am
I spit it slick as the sh*t that's in a Crisco can
So you should, c'mon baby, c'mon c'mon and get witcha man
Got the rap sh*t down to a chemistry
Lotta fakes in the industry, but I don't let them get to me
I rock for my brothers that's locked in the penitentiary
Me, Jay and Swizzy got the "Symphony of the Century"
Roc-A-Fella, Fort Knox, f**ker ya heard that!
I don't know where you be, but see I be where the birds at
She ask me buy her a drink, I get her some 'gnac
Then it's, c'mon baby, c'mon c'mon let's merk to the back
And way before my contract, I had hoes
Rappers claim that they had broads, but I doubt that they was bad broads
I'm feelin disrespected
If everybody f**kin dimes, who got all these UGLY b*t*hes pregnant?!