*featuring Sauce Money
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[Jay-Z, (Sauce)]
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[Jay-Z talking:]
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Sauce mothafuckin, jigga, jigga feel this...
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[Chorus]
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This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
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(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes
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(This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me)
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If ya feel me (Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes)
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[Verse 1]
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Yeah (If ya want some put ya guns up it's on)
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Ladies know that when the sun's up I'm gone
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(Fuck them bitches though digits though)
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Fuck, now if I bring it niggas know whaat
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(All black gat with the mack out)
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I take shorty to the rest blow her back out
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sun dress undress throw her back out (biotch)
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(in & out like a crack house) keep it moving
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(Face off with the.38 scraped off)
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keep shorty maced can't throw a 4-4 eight ball
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know your place (so it starts when ya least expect)
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(the yeast infect) you don't imitate bitches
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(piece protected) so I hear you hate bitches?
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(love the dough, ya flow irritate niggas)
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fuck them though, it's all out and
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have a fall out I fucked ya girl
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(On top now we call out fuck the world)
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(Face Off!)
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[Chorus]
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(This gos out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me)
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If ya feel me (Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes)
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This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
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(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes
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[Verse 2]
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(I apologize ladies I'm lovin' ya right)
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you must be used to me trickin' but we fuckin' tonight
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(No wine no dine) no wheelin' the whip
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all night long just feelin' the dick be-i-itch
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(Sauce mothafuckin' slayin' I'm sayin' with no delayin')
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(Can you beat that? I eat that) you just playin'
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nigga you neva know what a chick could do
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(pull the trigga too) check the shit jigga do
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(My crew) mackin' the same bitch (I do)
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(back man stack grands) daddy like I you
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(Love them hoes jigga?) Ha how that sound?
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women start to fall we all bat around
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Let my whole team hit it (scatter 'round)
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you never seen wit it (pat 'em down)
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check for cream in it (These riches)
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got nu'hin to do wit these bitches
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(Nothin' y'all can do to stop these digits)
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(Face Off!)
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[Chorus]
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This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
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(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes
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(This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me)
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If ya feel me (Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes)
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[Verse 3]
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(Can I touch that?) what's that? Leave it for dead.
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Keep ya arm over ya face my nigga (keep ya head)
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(keep a mind to survive if ya sleep ya dead)
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Stay fly 'til ya die nigga deep with prayer
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(with each word ya say I guess the beef is dead)
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Ladies & gentlemen (like impeach the Prez)
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(Val Kilmer style nigga draw heat with feds)
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(broad day like De Niro shoot all day)
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I'm the man fuckin' the tracks and you just foreplay
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get a hit I, I come through, blow up, you spit out
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What keep it cocked faithfully like salop
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with one in the drop don't get hit up
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(I be the 4-5th flamer hoes bitch shamer)
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(clap cats a snitch she'll give ya whole click name up)
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Look I done came up (and) thought a whole game up
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meet me in the square with one in the chamber
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(The Face Off nigga)
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[Chorus]
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This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me
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(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes
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(This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me)
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If ya feel me (Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes)
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This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya gun up (in the air) if ya feel me
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Fuck 'em all day (fuck 'em all night) we don't love these hoes
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["Track Masters" is whispered softly 8X in background]
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(This goes out... put ya guns up in the air) if ya feel me if ya feel
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(Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes) Yeah!!
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This goes out (to my Br
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-----------------
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Face Off
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| Jay-Z |
