Lyrics:
[Jay-Z]
What, tssh, why'all, what
Jigga, uhh uhh uhh, uh-huh
Pa-pa, uhh, pa-pa, uhh
The G, Roc-A-Fella why'all
Who be, in a Japanese
Just got off the phone with my nigga
He talking about how he really ain't eating no more
Told me he back on them jiggas and hanging wit killas
Who
he's a lyricist?
To drink from my flippin sink is a privilege
Copy Jay-Z and make your fingers a pyramid
Keep making soulless music your fans buy
But jam
I'm going to Japan tomorrow) Which I'm certain
(You understand what I'm saying? Can you believe that?)
I lived a life that's full (They have people,
of that crowd
And showed them who was who, and what was what
Man look at these suckers
I ain't no rapper, I'm a hustler
It just so happens that I know
gotta stay
Tell me I'm all you need
Understand that what goes around comes around
And I don't ever wanna come down
So, baby, tell me who the best
(dang right, right there)
Until they play me like Jay-Z
I'll preach my sentence
Even though the outlook is bleak
Like Memphis
We all got lost, then I
Big batty girl causing commotion
Slow whine girl dance in slow motion
Wait who be who
Slick she move like scooby doo
Large amount oh two by two
Let me
you nigga,
I got the 40/40 made by two jiggas,
I make you "Holla, Holla", I Ja Rule niggas!
The lion's in the room, what up Fat Joe?
I'm Curtis'
the motherfucking man
Mirror mirror am the motherfucking man
They downplay me like what the fuck he saying
Dragonball z bitch my scrotum super Saiyan
That's what
to seller to a whole brick of cocaine
Fuckin' with jigga before I ever had a meeting with Jay
I was meeting my play, corner of Jacob and Clay
I tell
and violets are blue
And niggers are black, you know that's true
But they don't mind, cause what the heck
You gotta be black to get a welfare check
And I'm
on my wrist Yunno it’s froze
Time going by like tic tic
Down on my wrist Yunno it’s froze
Who’s that younger cutting my flow
Who’s my icon Pretty
the cork off Moët off y'all
3 quarters of the way
Now that's history, pop Cristy 'til I'm pissy
Jigga, who is he? How bad y'all wanna know?
Stick my head out
the Brigada boy
Jay-Z money
Diddy money
Byron Allen money
Music and meets I can't speak
Outlining these blueprints
HOW I'M SUPPOSED TO BE
Self made, with
Bitches and thugs, spit game and throw slugs
It's the Ruler, live by, take it in blood
Cuz it's the J to the A to the death nigga what
Don't get it fucked
mine's blue Flo' so hard even get love from the piru What up? I grew up where these children don't never dream Surrounded by fiends who wanna smoke
on me
Never said zombie
But I stay carefree
Glamour or the fame
Came for the bag
Do it like it's Jay-Z
Hotter than tetley
They be like why's he so clean
You know like she never heard of me, ya know
So I said okay you may know me by my other name
Sometimes they call me
Track master
We see you Tone
she don't know how to act
Always talkin' out her neck, makin' her fingers snap
She like, "Listen Jigga Man, I don't care if you rap
You better
Oh it's hot outside man
Meek Millys coming daddy
Hundred for the walkthrough I'm not who you talk to
Drive by wet you up, nigga that's a carpool
and drugs, my anthology on perfection,
Dress superb, admired by conspirers,
Who wanna try me, but ain't high enough to four-five me up,
Child
wheels, big chains
Big pimpin', big money
Big dreams, dreams, dreams
Big dreams, dreams, dreams
Big dreams, dreams
Yo Jay, what it do, nigga?
I done rocked
the Tec off
Pop the cork off Moet off y'all
3 quarters of the way now that's history
Pop Christy 'till I'm pissy
Jigga, who is he? How bad y'all wanna know?
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