| 作曲 : Cruz, Leib, Richardson ... | |
| (Talking) | |
| Y'all can't be serious, this is A-1 performance | |
| Your boy wit' the million-dollar vocal chords | |
| No more Cristal and DoM P, straight Gatorade | |
| And they say in death, all life questions shall be answered | |
| But this here started before the womb | |
| and will not end after the grave | |
| Y'all can't disturb me | |
| (Verse One) | |
| Critically acclaimed, verbally I'm sickly insane | |
| Officially, I remain the Ripleys of the game | |
| Believe or not, the hustler's here to retrieve his spot | |
| From y'all dungaree thieves that mislead the block | |
| No rehearsal, nothing's controversial | |
| Relax homie, react, one response'll hurt you | |
| I know death, I was there when souls left | |
| Froze holdin' my nose, over decomposed flesh | |
| It's deeper, brown reefer, no beeper, low ceaser | |
| Outta sight, the life make the doe sweeter | |
| The raps Derrick Jeter, veggie-eater, half-ebonizer | |
| Love leisure, crewed up, in the stretch 11-seaters | |
| It's either; move accordin' or, lose an organ | |
| It's sorta like an abortion, you choose what's more important for ya | |
| Pimp to poet, from prince to heroic to | |
| Now, King of New York now, as if y'all don't know this. | |
| (Chorus) | |
| If you, If you think you want it | |
| You know y'all can get it | |
| Nobody doing it better than AZ, no, no, no (2x) | |
| (Verse Two) | |
| I done did the ostrige, the gators, silver foxes | |
| Silk boxers, rocked ice so obnoxious | |
| Wore pradas, Taj Mahal more dollars | |
| What other motherf**ker y'all could call hotter | |
| Street affilly, sweet swisher, switch from willy | |
| This so amazing, MJ style the flows Cajun | |
| Connect wit me, absorb, reflect wit me | |
| Respect im so N-Sync, I could sex Britney | |
| Been about it, no comparison, send 'em a stylest | |
| They too old for gold, and they dress code is childish | |
| I'm grown music, so I ask don't confuse it | |
| Consider, I'ma soul food this Howard Heuwit | |
| Sos the don, so seductive overdose 'em wit' charm | |
| Paranoid, sorta, so please approach me calm | |
| Clothes and money, hydro, hoes among me, | |
| Emphatically, the truth is y'all can't take nothin' from me. | |
| (Chorus) | |
| If you, If you think you want it | |
| You know y'all can get it | |
| Nobody doing it better than AZ, no, no, no (2x) | |
| (Verse Three) | |
| Although it's all music, at times we misuse it | |
| Confuse it, like we back on the block suited | |
| Born-thugs now get recruited, but listen youngin' | |
| You still a student I spit twirlin' tricks wit' a toothpick | |
| Taught ya teacher, I'm the source for seekers | |
| Resurrected like christ off the cross on easter | |
| Zone excessive, seven different home addresses | |
| So many years lost through tribulations, I've grown possessive | |
| I, earned my title, I learned survival | |
| Self made, never too concerned wit' idols | |
| The earth and the moon is one, and I'm the sun | |
| So all competition is none, get ya gun. | |
| (Chorus) | |
| If you, If you think you want it | |
| You know y'all can get it | |
| Nobody doing it better than AZ, no, no, no (2x) | |
| Nobody, doing it better than AZ |
| zuo qu : Cruz, Leib, Richardson ... | |
| Talking | |
| Y' all can' t be serious, this is A1 performance | |
| Your boy wit' the milliondollar vocal chords | |
| No more Cristal and DoM P, straight Gatorade | |
| And they say in death, all life questions shall be answered | |
| But this here started before the womb | |
| and will not end after the grave | |
| Y' all can' t disturb me | |
| Verse One | |
| Critically acclaimed, verbally I' m sickly insane | |
| Officially, I remain the Ripleys of the game | |
| Believe or not, the hustler' s here to retrieve his spot | |
| From y' all dungaree thieves that mislead the block | |
| No rehearsal, nothing' s controversial | |
| Relax homie, react, one response' ll hurt you | |
| I know death, I was there when souls left | |
| Froze holdin' my nose, over decomposed flesh | |
| It' s deeper, brown reefer, no beeper, low ceaser | |
| Outta sight, the life make the doe sweeter | |
| The raps Derrick Jeter, veggieeater, halfebonizer | |
| Love leisure, crewed up, in the stretch 11seaters | |
| It' s either move accordin' or, lose an organ | |
| It' s sorta like an abortion, you choose what' s more important for ya | |
| Pimp to poet, from prince to heroic to | |
| Now, King of New York now, as if y' all don' t know this. | |
| Chorus | |
| If you, If you think you want it | |
| You know y' all can get it | |
| Nobody doing it better than AZ, no, no, no 2x | |
| Verse Two | |
| I done did the ostrige, the gators, silver foxes | |
| Silk boxers, rocked ice so obnoxious | |
| Wore pradas, Taj Mahal more dollars | |
| What other motherf ker y' all could call hotter | |
| Street affilly, sweet swisher, switch from willy | |
| This so amazing, MJ style the flows Cajun | |
| Connect wit me, absorb, reflect wit me | |
| Respect im so NSync, I could sex Britney | |
| Been about it, no comparison, send ' em a stylest | |
| They too old for gold, and they dress code is childish | |
| I' m grown music, so I ask don' t confuse it | |
| Consider, I' ma soul food this Howard Heuwit | |
| Sos the don, so seductive overdose ' em wit' charm | |
| Paranoid, sorta, so please approach me calm | |
| Clothes and money, hydro, hoes among me, | |
| Emphatically, the truth is y' all can' t take nothin' from me. | |
| Chorus | |
| If you, If you think you want it | |
| You know y' all can get it | |
| Nobody doing it better than AZ, no, no, no 2x | |
| Verse Three | |
| Although it' s all music, at times we misuse it | |
| Confuse it, like we back on the block suited | |
| Bornthugs now get recruited, but listen youngin' | |
| You still a student I spit twirlin' tricks wit' a toothpick | |
| Taught ya teacher, I' m the source for seekers | |
| Resurrected like christ off the cross on easter | |
| Zone excessive, seven different home addresses | |
| So many years lost through tribulations, I' ve grown possessive | |
| I, earned my title, I learned survival | |
| Self made, never too concerned wit' idols | |
| The earth and the moon is one, and I' m the sun | |
| So all competition is none, get ya gun. | |
| Chorus | |
| If you, If you think you want it | |
| You know y' all can get it | |
| Nobody doing it better than AZ, no, no, no 2x | |
| Nobody, doing it better than AZ |
| zuò qǔ : Cruz, Leib, Richardson ... | |
| Talking | |
| Y' all can' t be serious, this is A1 performance | |
| Your boy wit' the milliondollar vocal chords | |
| No more Cristal and DoM P, straight Gatorade | |
| And they say in death, all life questions shall be answered | |
| But this here started before the womb | |
| and will not end after the grave | |
| Y' all can' t disturb me | |
| Verse One | |
| Critically acclaimed, verbally I' m sickly insane | |
| Officially, I remain the Ripleys of the game | |
| Believe or not, the hustler' s here to retrieve his spot | |
| From y' all dungaree thieves that mislead the block | |
| No rehearsal, nothing' s controversial | |
| Relax homie, react, one response' ll hurt you | |
| I know death, I was there when souls left | |
| Froze holdin' my nose, over decomposed flesh | |
| It' s deeper, brown reefer, no beeper, low ceaser | |
| Outta sight, the life make the doe sweeter | |
| The raps Derrick Jeter, veggieeater, halfebonizer | |
| Love leisure, crewed up, in the stretch 11seaters | |
| It' s either move accordin' or, lose an organ | |
| It' s sorta like an abortion, you choose what' s more important for ya | |
| Pimp to poet, from prince to heroic to | |
| Now, King of New York now, as if y' all don' t know this. | |
| Chorus | |
| If you, If you think you want it | |
| You know y' all can get it | |
| Nobody doing it better than AZ, no, no, no 2x | |
| Verse Two | |
| I done did the ostrige, the gators, silver foxes | |
| Silk boxers, rocked ice so obnoxious | |
| Wore pradas, Taj Mahal more dollars | |
| What other motherf ker y' all could call hotter | |
| Street affilly, sweet swisher, switch from willy | |
| This so amazing, MJ style the flows Cajun | |
| Connect wit me, absorb, reflect wit me | |
| Respect im so NSync, I could sex Britney | |
| Been about it, no comparison, send ' em a stylest | |
| They too old for gold, and they dress code is childish | |
| I' m grown music, so I ask don' t confuse it | |
| Consider, I' ma soul food this Howard Heuwit | |
| Sos the don, so seductive overdose ' em wit' charm | |
| Paranoid, sorta, so please approach me calm | |
| Clothes and money, hydro, hoes among me, | |
| Emphatically, the truth is y' all can' t take nothin' from me. | |
| Chorus | |
| If you, If you think you want it | |
| You know y' all can get it | |
| Nobody doing it better than AZ, no, no, no 2x | |
| Verse Three | |
| Although it' s all music, at times we misuse it | |
| Confuse it, like we back on the block suited | |
| Bornthugs now get recruited, but listen youngin' | |
| You still a student I spit twirlin' tricks wit' a toothpick | |
| Taught ya teacher, I' m the source for seekers | |
| Resurrected like christ off the cross on easter | |
| Zone excessive, seven different home addresses | |
| So many years lost through tribulations, I' ve grown possessive | |
| I, earned my title, I learned survival | |
| Self made, never too concerned wit' idols | |
| The earth and the moon is one, and I' m the sun | |
| So all competition is none, get ya gun. | |
| Chorus | |
| If you, If you think you want it | |
| You know y' all can get it | |
| Nobody doing it better than AZ, no, no, no 2x | |
| Nobody, doing it better than AZ |
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