Intro: 2000, and it goes like. (Uh Huh, yeah yeah)
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Chorus: This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
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Lay my game flat, what you wanna do
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Talk all night, are we gonna screw?
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I'm talking 'bout me and you
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Verse One: Sauce Money
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I like to push up on chicks like it's the last record
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take 'em to the telly get buck passed naked
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Let 'em feel the power, lick 'em if it don't taste sour
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hit 'em in the shower for an hour
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Give 'em that feeling, Sauce Money for real and
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let her get on top if there's mirrors on the ceiling
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Hit her so right that she wanna throw rice
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my device makes her say "Damn, that nigga's nice!"
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Know I got wifey lay my cards when I pivot
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pass your seven digits if you're with it
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Sauce wanna give you the option for the boot knockin'
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nine times outta ten it's on and poppin'
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Ain't no stopping victory's in the air
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bring a friend next time let's do it again
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Bring your whole crew if you see through me
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and we can meet on the BQE
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And it goes like
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Chorus (2X)
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Verse Two: Sauce Money, Jay-Z
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Sauce Money:
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Had this bitch bragging,
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Sauce had his tongue between my thighs lally-gaggin;
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huh, could you imagine
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Shaking your tail just like a dragon here comes my worse flame
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in the morning Hot 97 the first thing
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(Deny it) Hell yeah y'all don't buy it
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I don't eat no kind of fish if you can't fry it
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But who knows maybe one day I'll try it
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but for now slow down too much lip is killin' your diet
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Jay-Z:
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Can I get it what - Get it wet
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when he hit it first can I get it next, shit you the best
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It ain't wack to be with both of us, mami actually
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I'm Eddie Kane Jr., that nigga me!
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You want me to feel what he feel when it's tight
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and I know, he don't be doing it right
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But it gets no liver than this, never lie on our dicks
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shit, we got nigga's rides on our wrists
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Play your cards right you'll be driving the 6
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shopping all day hoppin' out in the Dist.
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Popping the Crist., shit hoppin' outta your wrist
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popping your shit, New York's hottest bitch
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>From the ghetto to the Stilletto's
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but you gotta do it two times like an echo, y'all feelin' that
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This is how we run it down the line
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nigga Sauce goes first Jigga next to rhyme
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Chorus (2X)
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Verse Three: Jay-Z, Sauce Money
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Jay-Z
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I see you got a lot to get off your chest
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coat, blouse, bra-don't talk me to death
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Like murder's on your mind mami, off the dress
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Jigga ran game 'til I lost my breath
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Sauce Money
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Last thing I need to know is what it costs for sex
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what you need to know is if I lost respect
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Don't have to worry if you do Sauce correct
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I'ma bless that, bring my whole crew through, don't even sweat that
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Jay-Z: Uh, dime pieces I'm hittin'
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Sauce Money: Four in the morning Frosted Flakes in your kitchen
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Jay-Z: Now you want me to start trickin' I suppose
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Sauce Money: That's when the first Face Off kicks in-
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"We don't love these hoes!"
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Chorus (2X)
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-----------------
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Face Off 2000
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Sauce Money |