Lyrics:
This song was alleged to be
On "Melvin Flynt" but is
Not on the final release version
Possibly from a bootleg
Yo all y'all bitches can pay
For your
Blind you with diamonds, and i'm buying you a TV
Superb rhyme genie, word to Gurizzi
Extra diamonds on the curb cause emcees turn greedy
Ollie is the name
it started
You fuckin’ with a gangster tonight so
Say goodbye to the waynester type
You with the Rock
Let me tell y’all something
I seen this bitch
Then one day I just asked her
"Why you always give your ass up?
I mean damn these hoes get paid
All you do is get laid, this shit don't add up."
She
(Chorus)
By this time next week imma be in a heavy groove
Got alot of money and i know just what to do
Im successful from my head to my shoe
And i
I'm sore
Karma
Tired of running I need a break
Trauma
All this pressure I might brake
Broken is a place for the weak
I swear that ain't my face in
a lot of optimism into the future. I am not a hater
A lot of y'all are right, I think I need a jeweler. Now I'm back in the desert, start
Building a life
the struggle, my knees never buckle
Look how we did it to ya
Y'all just don't get it do you?
Special deliver to ya
This is how we give it to you
Im'a get
get cash money like it's no limit
This material shit, I'm so wit it, get it? (put some money on it)
This is for you rap stars feelin' y'all clever
boy and you'll see why
I slice up this beat like I slice up some pie
All you gotta do is gimme some wood
And I'll shove it in my ass it'll fit real good
compared to me is
Like a cake versus a knife
Never try to teach your pitbull new tricks
I get psyched up like Kubrick
Whoop your ass like kung-fu-flicks
of low pro, so
Why's everybody now hatin' on me? (why?)
Could it be I'm runnin' wit the dub SCG
Or is it that I'm countin my riches
niggaz running from the cops, well I ain't running no mo'
I flip the bird when I swerve, man, FUCK them hoes
I'm crazy my nagga, but uh, I thought y
so you know I'm gonna get it
You ain't know, I could spit it like this
I hustle on the block, but I can get it like this shit
Five hundred ki's,
(turn the lights off and all you see is sparks)
I was-I was-I was raised in this shit
Get paid by the fifth
Get sprayed in yo whip
My blade in yo ribs
I
up I'm kinda sluggish all this lean in my cup
But I'm washed up, redrum, sittin in 22's
Princess cut lightin up my Japanese tattoos
I paid dues, tell
to my king tho
And hoping I don't sin tho
I'm not the man I'm meant to be (I'm meant to be)
But this relationship I'm in right now ain't sitting well with
like I'm epidural
Bitch hop out my dms, and get you some D damn
You must be on ceiling, Bc you seem like a true fan
Hoes be like, why y'all come every
would've gotten this far without family
I could never trust what I never can see
But all be god damn
If I'm not the fucking man
By the ending of the beat
replace 'em with another one
You had to see she keep calling me Big (and another one)
And my name is Jay-Z
She was all on my dick
Gradually I'm taking
from the trap, now I'm in the spot
Whipped up this work to support the pot, y'all niggas fans cause y'all hate a lot
Niggas is fans, but got holey spots,
like it was a Pit-bull
Seeing is to believe but
You still only achieve when you do Less talk and more action
This ain't gone be no quiescent mood I be in
Stand up, stretch for the stars
Get somebody else involved right next to ya
Y'all elected me to keep it so fresh for ya
Just cause I make it
give me that cash
Throw Diddy's check book and
I'll sign an autograph
47, mac elevens and there no limit (Body)
This is World War 3 is you ready? (Doubt
.jpg/217px-Arena_Corinthians_Opening_(cropped-Pitbull).jpg "Pitbull")
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