*featuring Big Jaz, Sauce Money
|
|
[Sauce Money]
|
Aiyyo Jay word up; these motherfuckers
|
Fuckin talkin that comeback shit like they cookin crack
|
Shit I ain't frontin all I want my pockets green like slum change
|
Yaknahmsayin? Front the roll we roll back like rubbers motherfucker
|
For real; with no trace of AIDS
|
We keep our pockets fully blown, Roc-A-Fella click nigga
|
|
Aiyyo we pattin down pussy from Sugarhill to the Shark Bar
|
Fuck a bitch D in the marked car
|
We got the bad bitches gaspin for air in Aspen
|
Searchin for aspirin when I ask then, we swing
|
You cling we do our thing and bring
|
Sling your ding-a-ling from Bed-Stuy Brooklyn to Beijing
|
East coast hostess hostile colossal, money flarin
|
like nostrils for drug dealin apostles, huh
|
Al Pacino down to Nino Brown
|
Me Jay and Primo, got it sewed across the board like poquino
|
Teflon, make sure your jammy is full
|
Cause I heard, Sammy the Bull lamps in Miami with pull
|
Tropical leaves where I got a few keys
|
with my man I'll stock a few G's, now it's unstoppable cheese
|
Said we was garbage, so fuck college
|
Street knowledge amazin to scholars when we coin phrases for dollars
|
Star studded bitches with cristals, get fucked with pistols
|
just to see my shit, discharge puss
|
I drop the stellar, even acapella
|
I got to tell all about Roc-A-Fella
|
|
[Chorus: Fat Joe]
|
|
Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang
|
And if not then let me do my thang
|
[repeat 4X]
|
|
[Jay-Z]
|
Mannerisms of a young Bobby DeNiro, spent spanish wisdoms
|
in a whip with dinero, crime organized like the pharoah
|
I cream, I diamond gleam
|
High post like Akiem, got a lot of things to drop
|
Brooklyn to Queens, I gotta keep my steam
|
Niggaz wanna try to hem my long jeans
|
Uptown fiend for Jay-Z to appear on the scene
|
In the meanwhile, here's somethin dope for y'all to lean
|
Liason for days on in
|
Money make the world go around so I made songs to spin
|
Can I Live, did dough, with my nigs, dividends flow
|
like the Mississippi riv', lookin jig'
|
Can't do for dolo, had to turn away when Tony killed Manolo
|
That's real, mixed feelings like a mulatto
|
Thug thought he was O.G. Bobby Johnson
|
I played him like Benny Blanco, mano a mano
|
you ain't ready, I find no trigger straight up shoot my guns
|
horizontal, get your weight up, I am
|
two point two pounds you're barely a hundred and twenty-five grams
|
Wouldn't expect y'all to understand this money
|
Do the knowledge, do the few dollars, I'm due to demolish
|
Crews Brooklyn through Hollis to a hood near you, what the fuck...
|
|
("Bring it on if you think you can hang..." --brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbr>
|
[repeat 5X]
|
|
-----------------
|
Bring It On
|
| Jay-Z |