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