Lyrics:
get up and do your thing
Jay z got a billy and Jordan got all rings
They only thing stopping you is not doing your thing
Hold it down for you city when
on the wall, white babes on the call
Spanish joints on the call, white grape on the pour up
Champagne when you see us, man came from to see us
Jay-Z and Penny
motherfucker on this floor
I got game, I got fame, I got cash, I got love
I got so many hoes, i'm bout to open a club
You got me, I got you, you got one, I
Dam
Diamonds hit like Israel
I get paid like the bills
On a two-man me & Dolo
With two hoes sipping out a solo
One from D.C., she on go-go
Other one
when you surrounded by demons (Lord)
I watched so many people leave (Jesus, Lord)
I see 'em change by the season, that's mama's seasonin'
God got you,
levels and I think, like
How Jay-Z took it to heights and
Made people be like, "Damn
Hip hop can take you this far!?"
I think you're taking that baton
I don't mean no harm
I'm a be your lucky charm
Herryporter on the block
Jay Z, Yeezy go ham
Im high as a motherf*****
let this ***** know who I am
[Chorus: x2]
Money, hoes, cars and clothes
That's how all my niggaz know
Blowin dro, twenty-fo'
That's how all my niggaz roll
[T.I.]
In
I need Folake, Kevwe, Funke ati Mimi
Sometimes I need Fatima by the corner when I'm chilling, Eh
So many girls on my radar
Pull up in the party
Yo, what up, it's your boy Dae-Dae
Yo, what up, it's RichboyRC and you're listening to Cartridge by Jay Browne
On 1(800)813-4evr: Deluxe
Dae-dae,
like a tea kettle got my flows in the bag
Heavyweight ain't mean to brag
Hook: (Flash T)
I weight too much that's what my mum says
Sellin' Jay-Z's for
a sucker
Plaques on the wall, hustler so I can say, "Fuck 'em"
Bel Air for the hoes, Cîroc in the pool (yeah)
My bitch is a stripper, her name is April's
JAY-Z and JD might have told
You money ain't a thing
But that means money's everything and
For that money y'all make
Them choppers sing
I'll make them
the streets they call me Jay-Z (yeah)
Lil' bitch, I got the blueprint (Scooter)
Lil' nigga, I don't want no old hundreds
You know I want them blue strips
Demon Loc
Damn too many of my homies got smoked
Before I lost 2Pac I lost my Grand Pa
Tha Raw dogg, I called him pa pa, aah naw
Not Reverend Harris
a helicopter crashing in lava
Still sweeter to the ladies than a box of Godiva
Music industry is like a game of cops and robbers
Too many Indians, no chiefs
as
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
I'm from rags to riches, niggas I ain't dumb
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one
Hit me beat Fades Out
in a Mercedes
But that don't make your basic ass Beyonce or Jay-Z
What's happenin'? Obama 'bout to move out the White House
What's happenin'? Couple
Jay-Z, Rockafella
That's the goal, I play the game, we get numbers
I play rough like a dirty mothafucka
Tough skin and I ain't had no mother
'Sace, 'sace
'Knock one, 'knock one
Mustard on the beat, ho
Shirt, shirt by Versace
Bitch you better fuck sumn
Ho, Hoes wanna knock one
Bitch you
like my riches
A yo, I'm Murphey Lee the school boy
The civilized jewel boy
I got not one, two, three, four, five, but six whores
For equality, Vokal,
you off
Broad, with the cause (yeah) bitch on a mission
Keep them niggas by they nuts while you hoes be dick kissin
Missing the game, damn bitch it's
mopping guys
No spring cleaning either (No, either)
Your favorite rapper a diva
Your favorite rapper will get Ether'd
Like Jay-Z
If you ever try to play me
Gatesy
Real Cali kid
Get the whole world wavy
Buy the boat …. Well Maybe
On that type shit lately
All by myself
O wait two baddies wit me
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