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Yeah! |
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Check it, check it out |
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Uhhh, haha, gotta keep it fat |
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Jay-Z (repeat 2X) |
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I can't get with that |
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I gotta keep it thick never miss so I hit em like this |
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Straight to the track, my lyrics is phat, I rip it the hell -- down |
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More than a fluke, I'm regularly wreckin this joint so what -- now |
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With so many niggas that's biting it's harder to detect who I be |
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Well check out the J, check out the A, check out the Y, Z |
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Original rap, I'm makin it slap, I'm hemmin it up like that |
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Stingin it, strikin it, swingin it fat, * DJ reverse * bring it back |
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I be that nigga with a gat, boom-clack |
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Don't ever sweat it when I go, I zoom back |
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Better than ever, never better, you better, whatever |
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I suggest the Ex-Lax and that'll get your shit together |
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I give you a snotty nose from body blows |
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Nobody's safe at a party even Gotti goes adios |
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I got-got-got Flav-flav-flav-flavor, so save yours |
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One and it's a hearse, I played and I slayed yours |
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Get it, got it, ready to flip, I doubt it |
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No need to prolong, check out the man gone, haha |
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The next, player, never get no rest, you're livin with stress |
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Cause just around the corner beez the best player |
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You're fearin my clout, if weed got you runnin your mouth |
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You better blow that shhhiiitt out |
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The Jigga's back, you brothers are flat |
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I'll amaze the way that Jay rap, now how in the hell did he say that? |
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You diggin me, the, epitome of, rippin it raw |
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You kiddin me, no artist that rap, gettin bigger thzn me |
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Although these cats are wettin my style, I'm still thristy |
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And we all gotta fall off, but you first G |
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I'll be the last, it'll be a, cold day in hell |
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before you see me, Sauce and Jaz, chillin with your wack ass |
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We make hits, and harmony, like Take 6 |
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While you brothers double pumped up them fake hits |
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Our Roc-A-Fella never Sell-A-Out |
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Brothers who don't have the heart, you better tell your mouth, uh |
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Ha-hah |
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This how we do |
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All year round, this is how it goes down |
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Now check it out |
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I don't kick it I punt it, I'm so wicked you want it? |
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My tongue is tired from lickin my fingers and countin up hundreds |
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So I bought a money machine and it goes |
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A tat-tat-trrrittaat-tat-triiatttt-at-tit-tit-tit-dough |
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How many styles I gotta kick to prove I'm def? |
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I can even-hah-kick my-hah-rip that shit-hah-and catch a breath |
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You can't see this, ask this nigga Dash |
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Now he don't count cause I'm makin him mad rich |
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This nigga's nothin but the truth |
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Many view Jay-Z as a threat to they loot. so |
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my thing is tight, can't slip, gotta grip |
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like a pit in a dog fight, yo, I'm a-iight |
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I ain't checkin for you 'less you my peoples |
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And just in case you didn't know peep the -- steelo |
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It goes, one dime for your mind |
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Two bone crushers for your spine |
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Cause none of ya game is rougher than mine |
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repeat 2X |
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Ha-hah. Jay-Z. live in the ninety-five |
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with a little help along, c'mon |
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Sacue Money defintly repesentin |
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Big Jaz in the house |
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Superman production type shit |