| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 2:20 | 
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[Jay-Z]
Yeah, I know you just ripped the packaging off your CD If you like me you readin the credits right now If you in your car, I don't care if it's winter I want you to put all your windows down Zone out, buckle up, let's go Hello it's Hova; that's right young'un the wait is over The new millineum is upon us, the album is here Before we get into the shit, let's get a few things clear Rappers with no relation: there's "Seven Degrees of Seperation" and I'm Kevin Bacon This is the murderer's version Jigga the shit, even when he rhyme in third person Hova the God, I should be rappin with turban Haters can't disturb him, waiters can't serve him Mike Jordan of rap - outside J workin Now watch how quickly I drop 50 I don't like playin, niggaz can't stick me Niggaz can not jam me, niggaz can't get me Slimmy at the Rucka wanna leave and spend with me I consistantly take em out the park like Ken Griffey Do you believe? It's Hova the God [Pain In Da Ass] Makes you think about the people in your life Then I think about BIG; what'd he say if he was here He'd say, "Jay, what's it about? What's life about? If you don't go through as a man's a man" He'd say, "Suck it up, take the fall, do the time that's what makes you who you are, makes you what you are" How many years you been around this thing of ours? Commision, 125 years What's it about? It's about rules, parameters You take the beatin for the friend you don't lay down you don't betray who you are, what you are You gotta remember guys like Taj, Chill, Ran, Emory They don't roar, they don't rap You know why? That's the rules, you don't break them You was born to be somethin I wasn't even supposed to be.. humble Okaay so you humble me now, what you got? You got a war, you got global war You got a worldwide crime syndicate now There's no rules, there's no parameters, there's no feelings There's no feelings for this game So.. five ten years from now You're gonna wish there was American Commision Five ten years from now... They're gonna miss Jay-Z Oahhhkayyyyy, I'm reloaded!!!!! |
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| 2. |
| 4:01 |
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[Jay-Z]
Back at'cha How we do Primo, Jigga-Man History in the making Let's go Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH Uh-huh-uh-uhh, uhh I spit the murder-murder-murderous Mur-mur-ma-murderous SHIT Uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-UHH I keep the gangsta-gangsta-gangsta Gah-gah-ga-gangsta beat, feel me? Uhh I spit that Brooklyn-Brooklyn-Brook Uh-uhh, uh-huh-uh-uhh, uh-uhh Uh-huh-UHH Yo.. career crook, nobody rap Brooklyn like me Jigga-Man, Volume 3, I'm back lookin like me Stop the presses, baby girls, drop your dresses B-K lick a shot for Big Pop' in heaven Ever since I came through, niggaz got the impression everything I drop, out of the question, stop the guessin it's hot, flows provin I pack cause my dough's movin My whole crew up in this muh'fucker We spray corners, stand there like you got a cape on ya, fine You'll be wearing a black suit a long time I put your crew in hard bottoms The priest is like, "God's got him He never did nuttin to nobody but them boys shot him" Brandish iron, outlandish buyin Bentley Coupes, not braggin just simply the truth We all from the ghetto, only difference, we go back Back up in D&D on this Primo track, listen Chorus: Jay-Z {scratching by DJ Premier} I'm so gangsta prissy chicks don't wanna fuck with me "Iceberg, Slim baby ride rims" I'm so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me "You know him well.." "..by the name of Jigga" I'm so gangsta prissy chicks don't wanna fuck with me "You can love me or hate me.." "..Jay-Z" I'm so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me "Roc-a-Fella lock the whole block down" [Jay-Z] Wednesday's I'm up in Shine, Cheetah's Monday night I'm fuckin with the model chicks Friday night at Life So I'm cruisin in the car with this boozy broad She said, "Jigga-Man you rich, take the doo-rag off" Hit a U-turn; ma I'm droppin you back off Front of the club, "Jigga why you do that for?" Thug nigga til the end, tell a friend bitch Won't change for no paper plus I been rich Eighty-eight been hustlin, linen been crushin em Women been fuckin them HUH? You see I live for the love of the street Rap to the ruggedest beats Hall closet cluttered with heat I spit that murder-murder-murder that Brook-Brook-a-Brooklyn shit Furthermore ma.. We tote guns to the Grammy's, pop bottles on the White House lawn Guess I'm just the same old Shawn Chorus [Jay-Z] I'm from the M-to-the-A-baby-R-C-Y So it's hard for me to let the larceny die Niggaz see me in the streets with no bodyguards just two big guns that'll body your squad Could niggaz be scheamin on me? Probably are Think Jigga's a joke nigga? Hardy har I spit Brook-Brook-Brooklyn every time I bust Radio's gotta play me though I cuss too much Magazine said I'm shallow, I never learned to swim Still they put me on they cover cause I earn for them Soon as I sell too much, watch them turn on him cause that seem to be the shit that'll earn for them I spit that murder-murder-murderous everytime a verbalist iller than Verbal Kint is or O-Dog in "Menace" I'm ill, start to finish, I rip apart contenders I'm hot.. hehehehe.. Chorus [Jay-Z] I'm so gangsta prissy chicks don't wanna fuck with me, uhh I'm so gutter, ghetto girls .. Heheh, (uhh, uhh, uh-huh-uh-uhh), yeah Uhh, yeah, funk, yeah, with me, yeah, beyotch, yeah Jigga, yeah, Primo, yeah, gangsta, yeah, niggaz, yeah Brooklyn, yeah |
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| 3. |
| 4:39 |
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Throw the hands up (uh, uh, uh)
Throw the hands up (Niggaz) Throw the hands up (Bitches) Throw the hands up (Bustas) Throw the hands up (Hustlers) Throw the hands up (Hos) Throw the hands up (Posta's) Throw the hands up (MAC) [Beanie Sigel] You know how Mac come through on the club tip Everybody real deep on that thug shit Cop Cris' spray the club on that thug shit Cop frisks suits snub in the club quick Told y'all real high, when I come through You can try if you want to, you can die if you want to We hittin whores on the floor, whole crew be wild Bitch "Back That Azz Up" like Juvenile (huh) When my peeps come through to spend a dime apiece You know Mac come through with a line of freaks Every bitch on the hit be a 9 at least We getting head on the floor, while you grinding freaks Whole squad get it down like this Whole squad buying rounds of Cris Whole squad got they crowns on wrist Whole squad got a pound of twist Whole squad got a pound to spit In case a clown wanna flip Mac never slip in a club, told y'all niggas 4/5th in a club If a nigga wanna draw then the blood it can drip in the club You know how niggaz get in the club, shit you know how I be All high in VIP, rolling up to B.I.G. (Baby) Niggaz be all liquored up talkin shit Till' they man gotta come pick them up Got bitches in the back bouncin to "Jigga What" You got your hands up and I ain't even stick y'all up Throw the hands up (uh, uh, uh, Everybody get it up) Throw the hands up [Jay-Z](Amil) 12 AM on the way to the club (uh) 1 AM DJ made it erupt (uh-huh) 2 AM now I'm gettin with her (what up?) 3 AM now I'm splittin with her (splitting with who?) 4 AM at the waffle house (waffle house) 5 AM now we at my house (uh) 6 AM I be diggin her out (who?) 6:15 I be kickin her out (what?) 7 AM I'ma call my friends (uh-huh) 12AM we gonna do it again, we gon, we gon, we gonna do it again (We gonna do it again) [Jay-Z] By the way yo Yo, how the fuck you gonna talk about MC's on our hill When we just cop them things homey the chromy wheels Both arms are chunky the sleeves on chill Any given times 100 G's in your grill Don't talk to me bout MC's got skillz He's alright but he's not real Jay-Z's that deal with seeds in a field Never fear for war, hug, squeeze that steel Fuck, you gotta a flow that's cool with me You gotta lil' dough that cool with me You gotta little cars little jewelries But none of y'all motherfuckers could fool with me You know the wrist frost bit minus two degrees Bout as blue as the sea the way I manuever the V Hat cocked can't see his eyes, who could it be? With that new blue Yankee on, who but me? Niggaz shift two million, then I blew the three Then I skated the four, before I went on tour I came back and it's plain Y'all niggaz ain't rappin the same Fuck the flow y'all jackin our slang I seen the same shit happen to Kane Three cuts in your eyebrow tryin to wild out The game is ours will never foul out Y'all just better hope we gracefully bow out Throw your hands up Niggaz, Bitches, Bustas, Hustlers FUCK THAT (Throw the hands up) [Amil](Jay-Z) 12 AM on the way to the club (uh huh) 1 AM bout to shake the butt (uh) 2 AM now I'm checkin the mix (ah yeah) 3 AM now he buyin me drinks (what you drinkin on) 4 AM exit the club (let's go) 5 AM think he gettin some butt (that's right) 6 AM nigga still ain't bust (what) 6:15 nigga will get up (uh) 7 AM gotta tell my friends (ah huh) 12 AM I'ma do it again, uh, uh I'ma Do it again 12 AM we gonna do it again (Uh, uh Let's go) [Jay-Z] 12 AM on the way to the club 1 AM DJ made it a rub 2 AM now I'm gettin with her 3 AM now I'm splittin with her 4 AM at the waffle house 5 AM now we at my house 6 AM I be diggin her out 6:15 I be kickin her out 7 AM I'ma call my friends 12 AM We gonna do it again, we gon, we gon, we gonna do it again Let's go |
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| 4. |
| 4:03 |
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[MTV] Serena Altschul's here live outside the criminal courthouse [Jay] This is {bullshit} y'all [MTV] in New York City for the first day in the trial of [Jay] I'm gone {*car speeds off*} [MTV] the State vs. Shawn Carter, a.k.a. Jay-Z [Jay] Uhh, uh-huh-uh, uhh, uh-huh-uh, uhh [MTV] Whatever the verdict in this trial may be the effects will undoubtedly be felt worldwide [Jay-Z] Aiyyo, stand forward, 'fore you take notice or witness to me killin the track Testify 'til me spillin the smack Now they got me for traffickin, racketeerin, audio crack {Hook:} They call me Dope Man, Dope Man I try to tell em I'm where hope, floats man Ghetto spokes-man A broke man, approachin the bench with intent to bury me under the cell, fingered me as the toast man Evidence stemmin from ninety-six They say the world ain't recovered from his fix While they was usin cut I was on some other shit Gave it to you raw and they just discovered it Nowaday, the jury got they brow raised Listenin to testimony about my foul ways Exhibit A: "Reasonable Doubt" They say this was the first thing that turned the peoples out [MTV] You can feel the tension building here as an unprecedented number of people have turned out for what may be the "Trial of the Century" {Hook} [Jay-Z] How come, you label your brand of dope "Volume 1" and spread it through the slums? Fed it to the young with total disregard Your honor, the State seeks the maximum charge And how could you, turn right around and release a lethal dosage called "Volume 2" And is true you operate the criminal enterprise known as Roc-a-Fella in charge of his meteoric rise? And do you deny you're responsible for the demise of record execs, and do you object? Your distribution's Polygram, and through your connects Def Jam, you pushed over five million SoundScan And not to mention, your co-horts and henchmen Dame, Biggs, Lyor, Kev' and Russell Simmons And we ain't gon' talk about Murder, Inc. That just establishes a darker deeper criminal link [MTV] The State is seeking the maximum penalty and with the overwhelming amount of evidence the D.A.'s presented, things aren't looking good {Hook} [MTV] Despite the grim outlook at this point the rapper has been known to emerge triumphant in the face of adversity {Hook} [MTV] Jay-Z is taking the stand [Jay-Z] Right hand on the Bible, left hand in the air Before I spoke one word, made sure my throat was clear A-hem, I'm a prisoner of circumstance Frail nigga, I couldn't much work with my hands But my mind was strong, I grew where you hold your blacks up Trap us, expect us not to pick gats up Where you drop your cracks off by the Mack trucks Destroy our dreams of lawyers and actors Keep us spiralin, goin backwards At age nine, saw my first hate crime Blindfolded, expected to walk a straight line Mind molded, taught to love you and hate mine Climbed over it, at a early age, Jay shined Fuck the system at Lady Justice I blaze nine Your Honor, I no longer kill my people, I raise mine The soul of Mumia in this modern day time [MTV] While the jury is inside deliberating outside the crowd is frozen with anticipation {Hook} [MTV] Well the verdict has just been announced: NOT GUILTY! It is complete pandemonium out here! {Hook; Serena keeps speaking} People are cheering and hugging - there he is Jay-Z is exiting the courtroom right now There is a swarm of cameras surrounding him {*pop bulbs flashing*} and people are just rushing up to him Let's try and make our way over there, Jay-Z! Jay-Z! {*sounds of cameras keep flashing*, *music fades*} |
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| 5. |
| 4:52 |
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[Jay-Z]
You know the flow sicka, know Jigga, mo' sicka now right You know what me and Swizz's shit sound like Crazed and demonic, uh without blazin chronic Product of Reaganomics You know that motherfuckin stoop raised me Ringin in da hoops but I was too lazy School made me sick, teachers said I was too crazy Low and behold, it's the new and improved Jay-Z Let me explain this to you baby I spent nights out, days in Niggaz was blazing, twelve noon where I was raised in I felt caged in but kept roaming Prayed for the Day of Atonement Married to the streets no date of annulment It seems every time it comes up They postpone it So I kept my chrome at the waist Waiting for the omen Savoring the moment and now you know The reason that I flow the way I flow baby [Mariah](Jay-Z) It's the things that you do (Uh, inhale, exhale, breathe on it) That make me feel so.. And I don't know the way I feel I can explains I love you You thug look at what you make the clubs do (Bounce, shake, bounce, shake) It's the things that you do That make me feel so.. (Uh, exhale, breathe on it for me) And I don't know the way I feel I can explain (Uh) I love you You thug look at what you make the clubs do (Drop, bounce, yo) [Jay-Z] You know I move like an ounce Bottled up like crack That's how I make you bounce like that Defy Webster's words they can't pronounce like that That's why no other rapper got a sound like that Trap, trap of my life Flashback, kill niggaz Rap skills unmatched, Jigga man baby I can't entertain it sometimes I can't explain it God given, gifts of a soul for hard living Far be it from me to question Allah's wisdom Could've been lost in the system Instead I'm involved with the rhythm I dodged prison, came out unscathed from car collisions I know I must be part of some mission Shit I used take it for granted Why they placed me on this planet I would ask myself while writin raps to myself But right there under my nose Was the flow of all flows Not a demon but a rose in the cement, come on [Mariah](Jay-Z) It's the things that you do That make me feel so.. (Inhale, exhale, breathe on it MC) And I don't know the way I feel I can explain (Uh) I love you You thug look at what you make the clubs do (Bounce, shake, shake it, uh) It's the things that you do That make me feel so.. (Exhale, uh) And I don't know the way I feel I can explain I love you You thug look at what you make the clubs do (Lights out nigga) [Jay-Z] You know I've traveled through zones Homes spazzed like a bad back I came into this game on Jaz's back I jumped off stood on my own two like boom, that's that Yeah I'm here to show and prove Don't matter to me the Garden or flowin on Clue Whatever niggas wanna do - it's alright with me Whether you big or bossy, jig or flossy Dusty or musty, sober or saucy Broker than Todd Bridges, richer than Bill Cosby Forgive me for my arrogance or you still salty? Past on to the next life and you still haunt me I'mma keep doing me unfortunately I make the club rock, make thugs pop guns Make old folks do the bus stop; can't stop son Shit I give you what's hot and what's not, I never knew Y'all (niggas) know (niggas) how (niggas) do [Mariah](Jay-Z) It's the things that you do that make me feel so.. (Uh, exhale, inhale) And I don't know the way I feel I can explain I love you You thug look at what you make the clubs do (Uh, bounce, shake, what? uh-huh) It's the things that you do that make me feel so.. (Uh-huh, inhale, exhale) And I don't know the way I feel I can explain I love you You thug look at what you make the clubs do (Bounce, shake ladies) It's the things that you do that make me feel so.. (Uh-huh, breathe for me, uh, uh-huh) And I don't know the way I feel I can explain (Uh) I love you You thug look at what you make the clubs do (Lights out niggas) It's the things that you do that make me feel so.. And I don't know the way I feel I can explain I love you You thug look at what you make the clubs do It's the things that you do that make me feel so.. And I don't know the way I feel I can explain I love you You thug look at what you make the clubs do It's the things that you do that make me feel so.. And I don't know the way I feel I can explain I love you You thug look at what you make the clubs do |
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| 6. |
| 4:16 |
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Can't stop it nigga, uh
Mm-hmm, uh-huh, can't stop that Timbaland uh-huh.. Jigga Man uh-huh Yeah.. Brook, Brook-Brooklyn huh? That's right Put your motherfuckin hands together, uh-huh Put your motherfuckin hands together Yo, can't stop it Yo.. Yo show closer, J-to-the-A-Y-Hovah Place shutter down, who the fuck'll fuck around? Game spitter, Range sitter, Bentley driver nigga Keep a full clip I have to empty out on niggaz Hoe bagger, no slacker, get this shit jumpin like eight blacks, fo' crackers, get yo' ass jumped Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist glitter nigga Gat buster, ass toucher.. clit licker Go against Jigga yo' ass is dense I'm about a dollar, what the fuck is 50 Cents? Hot shit, kick a nigga, turn these mics out My jewelry so bright you can turn these lights out Hovah's like Noah keep two in the truck I'm like U-Haul; every bitch move when I fuck You move slut, I gotta put two in your butt I'm everything: the when's, why's, who's, and what Nigga what? Chorus: Jay-Z (repeat 2X w/ minor variations) Hell no you can't stop it, when it's hot it's hot My grind, keep me jumpin out of drop to drop My shine, lose your sight tryin to watch the watch When there's drama Jigga pop, Jigga pop, pop [Jay-Z] Seperate myself from the lame, no you can't see me I'm 6-0-0, you 300 C-E Give my ladies dick, my young hoes pee-pee Hits in a row like MJ; ""Hee-hee!"" Since I was waist height, late night, bustin in the clouds Runnin wild, comin home late, cussin out my mouth Niggaz said, ""Bryan leave your cousin in the house"" Everytime we play the Dozen, he's buggin out While y'all was playin yo-yo, I was sittin on low pros Dippin the po-po, gettin that dough-dough No, no I ain't stupid I take loot kid What's in the bank? Shoot it Lose it like I ain't do it You wanna play Jigga nigga what you drank fluid? Got a full tank now you wanna pull rank? I clap still, act ill, Jigga shoot thee Give you chest pains, leg sprains absolutely What? Chorus [Jay-Z] Thirty-eight revolve like the sun round the Earth Try to play hard get you found round the dirt Six shell casings found round your shirt {*cyring*} in surround sound from the hearse Jigga Man, trigger man, hit your man up Six shots, hit the pole, hit the van up Kidnap grown folks get them grands up Timbaland, hot shit, get them hands up Chorus 2X |
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| 7. |
| 4:01 |
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Yo, yo
This is for my niggaz down in Houston on candy paint All my niggaz in the Dirty South, Miami mayne All my niggaz in the A-T-L throwin dem bones All them thugs that send slugs through your clothes; holla at me It's for the black culture, Spanish chicks with the sweet chocha Spanish cats with the ki's of cocoa All the haters eat a dick they wanna see you brok-er I hope the heat stroke ya, the misery is over All my deep smokers, I hope the leaf choke ya Hope you'll never be sober I'ma toast to myself I hope the Crist' get me, spiralin into a tizzy So pissy, swervin on the road dizzy May God protect my soul, angels walk with me First do the flow sickly, niggaz is so shifty The fo'-fo' is like a force field, you won't get me I brought some folk with me, Brooklyn is loc'n with me What the fuck? Chorus: Juvenile (repeat 2X) You know, we ride All day, all night Pop Crist, shoot dice Fuck hoes, for life [Jay-Z] This is for my chicks that get dough for takin off they clothes All them money makin honeys that slide down the poles All my educated chicks who grade is 4.0 All the baby mamas across the globe; aiyyo I like my women friends feminine I like my hoes on "X" like Eminem.. shit! I like em bow-legged, never coke-headed With a dough fetish - the drive to go get it I like they toes proper, I like they clothes Prada I like they shoes Gucci, I like new coochie I fucked a few groupies, in a few hoopties I got em iceberg shit they thought I knew Snoopy I cop them Roc-a-Wear, my mamis dedicated They never tell me no, the most they said is "not here" I got they ears studded, both wrists baguetted I got a main chick, a mistress, and a young bitch Forget it I'm the don Chorus [Jay-Z] Wha-What? This is for my dice shooters, cats doin life By the time I get this kite to ya, I hope you doin alright Who got em platinum up? Who got the chicks in the truck? Too much to sit comfortably, they lappin up Who shit is big pimpin? See the flow different I drop heavy then I let the four-fifth flip em I keep rappers talkin to kids, Jigga "Sixth Sense-d" em Don't mention my name and lames in the same sentence You see I'm so thorough, take on your whole borough Be so careful I hear the whistle from the fo'-fo' barrel Keep the flow Hovah; icy neck, cold shoulder Who click is closest to La Costra Nostra? It's "The Roc" Chorus 1.5X |
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| 8. |
| 4:14 |
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[Jay-Z]
No, no, no, nope You can't see 'em Though you got plans to be him Pay homage if by chance you meet him In his pants pocket, your advance in pedium It's the undisputed champ, being For clique, dough sick, no medicine for us Competition like I said in the chorus Let me spell it out for ya Jay to tha Amil (A to the Y stay real fuck how they feel, uh-huh, uh-huh) That's how we put it down (Uh-huh, uh-huh y'all gon get it now) Chip off the old block Resemble my old pops 'Cept I tote glocks and open dope spots And I shut down rap crews Smack them cats who flash tools Laugh at fake ballers with bad jewels I'll tell you once This is shit you should've of knew (Jigga what?) Jigga (Jigga who?) Okay [Jay-Z] S-dot-Carter Y'all must try harder Competition is [Amil] Nada Ladies scream papa Niggas can't stop ya Competition is [Jay-Z] No, no, no S-dot-Carter Y'all must try harder Competition is [Amil] Nada Ladies scream papa Niggas can't stop ya Competition is [Jay-Z] No, no, no I'mma Roc-a-fella soldier I thought I told ya Hustler, nigga move weight like Oprah Drive wide body, twenty-inch big motor No tints, make no mistake y'all it's Hova I stay sportin' played Jordan's before Jordan Verses tight, hooks harder than Ken Norton Musically touching you Truthfully I abuse beats better call BCW I make my mother move So I have no problem coming around the old way Sluggin' you, that's what a thug will do (Thuggin', bust techs, a suspect dangerous, and I love rough sex) Yeah that's what's up Even when I'm asleep the gats is up Paranoid like Sunny drive backing up But I'm from Bed-Stuy, killa with the flow Let lead fly from out the four-four, motherfuckers [Jay-Z] S-dot-Carter Y'all must try harder Competition is [Amil] Nada Ladies scream papa Niggas can't stop ya Competition is [Jay-Z] No, no, no S-dot-Carter Y'all must try harder Competition is [Amil] Nada Ladies scream papa Niggas can't stop ya Competition is [Jay-Z] No, no, no None I remain at the top like the sun And I burn whoever come in my chambers of torture The flame gon' spark ya Blood stain the tarp But remains they chalk ya Don't try to smooth talk us [Amil](Jay-Z) You got nothing to offer But the baby nine And make ya fine offer The chick is ill Even with four-inch heels No panties on and Patricia Fields I get down Just name the time, the place We could take it back to Vaseline on our face On a regular day we just gleam up your space Rock our own line, got our whole team laced RW with the torch on my jeans by the waist Without heat we still gon steam up the place (Amil-lion, Jigga man, flawless, here we go) [Jay-Z] S-dot-Carter Y'all must try harder Competition is [Amil] Nada Ladies scream papa Niggas can't stop ya Competition is [Jay-Z] No, no, no S-dot-Carter Y'all must try harder Competition is [Amil] Nada Ladies scream papa Niggas can't stop ya Competition is [Jay-Z] No, no, no |
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| 9. |
| 4:35 |
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Uh, uh, uh
See me comin through hair done just a slinging my shit With something Gucci on clinging to my hips Frontin with the Star Tech ringing in the whip Icy ears, neck, fingers for years Got the show wild with the toes out Shit I don't fuck with no stingy nigga I rock Prada, Chanel, and Fendi nigga What I'mma do with your little blunts and Henney nigga? I'mma Major Coin with a pretty Bentley nigga Uh my niggas will ride for me You should see all the things they buy for me Uh, it's obvious how I spend my time Around ballers all day don't have to spend a dime Callin' up room service when it's dinner time Get my tan on in the tropics in the winter time nigga, uh, uh, uh [Amil] (Beanie Siegal) Would ya love me? (If we couldn't cop the drop) Would ya hate me? (If we couldn't drop the top) I know ya love me (Cuz you know we pop 4 Roc) I know ya hate me (Cuz you know we got shit locked) Would ya love me? (If we couldn't cop the drop) Would ya hate me? (If we couldn't drop the top) I know ya love me (Cuz you know we pop 4 Roc) I know ya hate me (And you know we got shit locked) [Beanie Siegal] Ay yo, we gon' stop this here Get this clear the general of the Roc in here Beanie Siegal hottest thing on the block this year Keep the ego we been bound to the top ya hear Forget about it you don't know me yo stop the stares I've been about it pop you then pop ya peers You know how I do six coup, top be clear You know how I play low layer Roc-A-Wear Catch Siegal in the kitchen balloon in the pie Y'all from whom to buy Y'all niggas know if y'all cross Mac Y'all soon to die Cuz you know I bring heat like June and July Spit like August I'm the truth I'm not lying I'm the reason why Jay feel comfortable retiring I gotta laugh cuz y'all work hard at this shit Think about yo I just started this shit Just imagine if I put my heart in this shit Scary sight y'all niggas feel me right God damn yo I barely write But every rhyme be in check like a pair of Nikes [Amil] (Beanie Siegal) Would ya love me? (If we couldn't cop the drop) Would ya hate me? (If we couldn't drop the top) I know ya love me (Cuz you know we pop 4 roc) I know ya hate me (Cuz you know we got shit locked) Would ya love me? (If we couldn't cop the drop) Would ya hate me? (If we couldn't drop the top) I know ya love me (Cuz you know we pop 4 roc) I know ya hate me (And you know we got shit locked) [Memphis Bleek] Yo, yo, well I'm gold now Memph Man Coming Of Age and I'm grown now Sittin on chrome now I'm the youngest gun, I get it on with anyone I've been in thirty beefs shit I'm barely 21 Guns I hold em like offensive linemen Bring em back to the streets like a brick on consignment Interlining of the Mark Buchanan Spark two hammers Memph Man gold marks the understanding [Jay-Z] We don't engage in war we elope Orange juice style beat niggas to a pulp We broke nigga you just told 3 jokes Me, Biggs, and Dame we get some things See the six dames me and Biggs live in the Range Mine's platinum his Champagne Niggas whisper cuz if they talk they gets slain Y'all's was looking for me on the charts the bricks came Left the same night in the morning the chicks came I just use rap to put shit in my name The death's just a matter of time the hit's been arranged Contracts signed the shits in your name Just to lame rap niggas I'm the king Motherfuck the ring mami kiss the chain I don't got game to waste on y'all I'm don't think with my dick or chase my balls I'm a hustla hit me with an eighth of raw And when I get on top I'mma blaze all y'all Keep em laced some more I know you want some things I drink a lot of water mami come clean Chicks I pump her then dump her Cars we got em bumper to bumper Rap niggas y'all days are numbered Nobody drop nothin' next summer, yeah [Amil] (Beanie Siegal) Would ya love me? (If we couldn't cop the drop) Would ya hate me? (If we couldn't drop the top) I know ya love me (Cuz you know we pop 4 roc) I know ya hate me (Cuz you know we got shit locked) Would ya love me? (If we couldn't cop the drop) Would ya hate me? (If we couldn't drop the top) I know ya love me (Cuz you know we pop 4 roc) I know ya hate me (And you know we got shit locked) [Jay-Z] Yeah R-O-C for the 2 triple O Ya heard me You are about to witness a dynasty like no other Beanie Siegal, The General Amil-lion, Diana Ross of the ROC Memph Bleek, Young god Ha, ha Jigga Man, get ya mind right niggas |
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| 10. |
| 1:34 | 
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| 11. |
| 4:43 |
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[Jay-Z]
Uhh, uh uh uh It's big pimpin baby.. It's big pimpin, spendin G's Feel me.. uh-huh uhh, uh-huh.. Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah.. You know I - thug em, fuck em, love em, leave em Cause I don't fuckin need em Take em out the hood, keep em lookin good But I don't fuckin feed em First time they fuss I'm breezin Talkin bout, "What's the reasons?" I'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch Better trust than believe em In the cut where I keep em til I need a nut, til I need to beat the guts Then it's, beep beep and I'm pickin em up Let em play with the dick in the truck Many chicks wanna put Jigga fist in cuffs Divorce him and split his bucks Just because you got good head, I'ma break bread so you can be livin it up? Shit I.. parts with nothin, y'all be frontin Me give my heart to a woman? Not for nothin, never happen I'll be forever mackin Heart cold as assassins, I got no passion I got no patience And I hate waitin.. Hoe get yo' ass in And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah Chorus One: Jay-Z We doin.. big pimpin, we spendin G's Check em out now Big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B Yo yo yo.. big pimpin, spendin G's We doin - big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B [Bun B] Nigga it's the - big Southern rap impresario Comin straight up out the black bar-rio Makes a mill' up off a sorry hoe Then sit back and peep my sce-nawr-e-oh Oops, my bad, that's my scenario No I can't fuck a scary hoe Now every time, every place, everywhere we go Hoes start pointin - they say, "There he go!" Now these motherfuckers know we carry mo' heat than a little bit We don't pull it out over little shit And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it won't be a little hit Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch and step up yo' vocab Don't be surprised if yo' hoe stab out with me and you see us comin down on yo' slab Livin ghetto-fabulous, so mad, you just can't take it But nigga if you hatin I then you wait while I get yo' bitch butt-naked, just break it You gotta pay like you weigh wet wit two pairs of clothes on Now get yo' ass to the back as I'm flyin to the track Timbaland let me spit my pro's on Pump it up in the pro-zone That's the track that we breakin these hoes on Ain't the track that we flow's on But when shit get hot, then the glock start poppin like ozone We keep hoes crunk like Trigger-man Fo' real it don't get no bigger man Don't trip, let's flip, gettin throwed on the flip Gettin blowed with the motherfuckin Jigga Man, fool Chorus Two: Bun B We be.. big pimpin, spendin G's We be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We be.. big pimpin down in P.A.T. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B Cause we be.. big pimpin, spendin G's And we be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s Cause we be.. big pimpin in P.A.T. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B.. nigga [Pimp C] Uhh.. smokin out, throwin up, keepin lean up in my cup All my car got leather and wood, in my hood we call it buck Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall If he up, watch him fall, nigga I can't fuck witch'all If I wasn't rappin baby, I would still be ridin Mercedes Chromin shinin sippin daily, no rest until whitey pay me Uhhh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys Comin down in candied toys, smokin weed and talkin noise Chorus Two |
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| 12. |
| 4:34 |
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[Jay-Z]
Uh, yo don't get mad at me I don't love 'em I fuck 'em I don't chase 'em I duck 'em I replace 'em with another one You had to see she keep calling me BIG And my name is Jay-Z She be all on my dick Gradually I'm taking over your bitch Coming over your shit Got my feet up on you sofa, man I mean a hostess for my open hand You coming home to beer shifts and there be soda cans I got your bitch in my Rover man I never kiss her, I never hold her hand In fact I diss her I'm a bolder man I'mma pimp her, it's over man It's over man, it's over man [Missy] Oh is that your bitch Why she all in his six? With her hand on his dick Keep licking her lips Is that your bitch? Why she all in his ride? With her hand on his thighs Keep looking in his eyes Oh is that your bitch? You better tell her chill While you all in his grill Don't you know that man kill? Is that your bitch? Why she paging him? Keep praising him? Cause that's Jay and them, bitch [Jay-Z] Why you home alone, while she's out with me Room 112, hotel balcony How she say Jay you can call the house for me? There's no respect at all You betta check her dawg She keep beggin' me to hit it raw So she can have my kids and say it was yours How foul is she? And you wiped her, shit I put that rubber on tighter Sent her home, when she entered home You hugged her up What the fuck is up? She got you whipped, got your kids Got your home, but that's not your bitch You share that girl, don't let 'em hear that at Earl It'll make 'em sick that his favorite chick Ain't saving it, unfaithful bitch [Missy] Oh is that your bitch Why she all in his six? With her hand on his dick Keep licking her lips Is that your bitch? Why she all in his ride? With her hand on his thighs Keep looking in his eyes Oh is that your bitch? You better tell her chill While you all in his grill Don't you know that man kill? Is that your bitch? Why she paging him? Keep praising him? Cause that's Jay and them bitch [Jay-Z] Cool out homie You betta keep her away from my balling clique Keep her out of nightclubs all in the mix >From hanging out with chicks who be swallowing dicks >From catz who order Cris play the floor with the Knicks It can only lead to something unfortunate Hot boy like Jigga man scorch your bitch Play the floor dot Jigga man go first Then we all rock till we all hot You know the boy from the Roc got them whores on lock Got the bitches in the smash Making yours drive fast Do we get more cash than the average nigga? All dem hoes like damn I gotta have this nigga Cause I'mma hot black, how in the hell can you stop that You can fuck mine How the hell can you knock that? I'm just playing the cards choosenly Jigga man who ya supposed to be? [Missy] Oh is that your bitch Why she all in his six? With her hand on his dick Keep licking her lips Is that your bitch? Why she all in his ride? With her hand on his thighs Keep looking in his eyes Oh is that your bitch? You better tell her chill While you all in his grill Don't you know that man kill? Is that your bitch? Why she paging him? Keep praising him? Cause that's Jay and them bitch [Twista] Tha Jigga and Twista got 'em screaming Like a demon fiending for the semen Chrome gleaming like the dome off Keenan Gone while I'm leanin' smoking I'm whip it in the stomach Your bitch on the passenger side of me flashing your money Why you acting so funny? You know she been flirting while your working Behind the curtain knuckles jerking for certain Poppin' that pussy Sweatin' till no fluid is left When I come in the party with J we gonna do it to death You gon' ruin your rep Trippin' while we pimpin' these hefers Playa lectures got me shining like a new Gator stepper Must have been mad When your ho put my stuff in the dash Bust in her ass To climax I come up with a nab The game don't stop Legit ballers bending up the block Niggas rushing, coming at us cause of status and props Sucking and fucking, loving it when I put tha dick up inside her Can't help it if she yellin' with a ridah [Missy] Oh is that your bitch Why she all in his six? With her hand on his dick Keep licking her lips Is that your bitch? Why she all in his ride? With her hand on his thigh Keep looking in his eyes Oh is that your bitch? You better tell her chill While you all in his grill Don't you know that man kill? Is that your bitch? Why she paging him? Keep praising him? Cause that's Jay and them, bitch Oh is that your bitch Why she all in his six? With her hand on his dick Keep licking her lips Is that your bitch? Why she all in his ride? With her hand on his thigh Keep looking in his eyes Oh is that your bitch? You better tell her chill While you all in his grill Don't you know that man kill? Is that your bitch? Why she paging him? Keep praising him? Cause that's Jay and them, bitch Oh is that your bitch Why she all in his six? With her hand on his dick Keep licking her lips Is that your bitch? Why she all in his ride? With her hand on his thigh Keep looking in his eyes Oh is that your bitch? You better tell her chill While you all in his grill Don't you know that man kill? Is that your bitch? Why she paging him? Keep praising him? Cause that's Jay and them Oh is that your bitch Why she all in his six? With her hand on his dick Keep licking her lips Is that your bitch? Why she all in his ride? With her hand on his thigh Keep looking in his eyes Oh is that your bitch? You better tell her chill While you all in his grill Don't you know that man kill? Is that your bitch? Why she paging him? Keep praising him? Cause that's Jay and them, bitch |
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| 13. |
| 6:43 |
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[Jay-Z]
I remove your roof nigga let the sun shine in Thirty-eight waist, enough to put one nine in Really a thirty-six without the gun I'm thin but when the gat is tucked, I'm fat as fuck Ignorant bastard, I'm takin it back to day one No kids, but trust me I know how to raise a gun For niggaz that think I spend my days in the sun well here's the shock of your life, the glock not the mic Homey I'm not into hype; trust me, I'm still street You still fuckin up then trust me I still creep Yeah I know the platinum chain be lookin real sweet but reach and I bury niggaz sixty feet deep S dot Carter turn rappers into martyrs Seperate fathers from they daughters, why bother I'm a crook like you, I took like you I disobeyed the law threw out the book like you How dare you look at Jigga like I'm shook like boo I keep the fifth with me nigga, come and get me.. COME AND GET ME! {*gong sounds*} Ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-come.. {*bell rings*} COME AND GET ME! Ka-ka-ka-COME AND GET ME! .. {*bell rings*} COME AND GET ME! Ka-ka-ka.. {*bell rings*} .. Ka-ka-ka-ka-come {*bell rings*} .. come and get me COME AND GET ME [Jay-Z] Don't know what y'all niggaz is tryin to do but I don't like it Yeah, straight gangster shit Heyyyy, uh-huh-uh-uhh gangster shit Uhh, straight gangster nigga Roc.. Yo, your summer's bout to get hot Niggaz home from jail and they plottin Heard about the watch, the Bentley hard-top The Continental T, got em resentin me God I work hard, please don't envy me I paid the cost to be the boss to floss this hard I can recall a year ago I almost lost this job All y'all remember is the part about me parkin the hog What about all them days I was walkin my dogs? Barkin at broads, but they never hollered back And if they did all they said was, "Where dem dollaz at?" Imagine, bein skinny growin up around broader cats The quiet assassin demeanor of them college cats until I got a gat and loudly start poppin back Round the way, niggaz called me Bobby Bouchete Now all I hear is whispers of what you gon' do to Jay How y'all gon' stick me up, take my jewels away Pull out your gat, car jack me take my cruise away Well I got news for y'all fools today, hey.. Chorus: Jay-Z I got, shots to give come and get me nigga Y'all wanna rob the kid? Come and get me nigga I won't, part with this come and get me nigga I worked, hard for this come and get me nigga I got, shots to give, COME AND GET ME.. COME AND GET ME.. [Jay-Z] I made it so, you could say Marcy and it was all good I ain't crossover I brought the suburbs to the hood Made em relate to your struggle, told em bout your hustle Went on MTV with do-rags, I made them love you You know normally them people wouldn't be fuckin witchu Til I made em understand why you do what you do I expected to hear, "Jay, if it wasn't for you.." But instead, all I hear is buzzin in your crew How y'all scheamin, tryin to get accustomed to my moves So y'all could tape my mouth, stake out my house But I got pride I'm a nigga first I gotta cock back and pull the trigger first That's how Jigga work The funny thing; I represent y'all everytime I spit a verse and that's the shit that hurts But hey, I got my mind right, got my nine right here So when y'all feel that the time is right.. Chorus [Jay-Z] Aiy yo yo, aiy yo yo It's only fair that I warn ya, rap's my new hustle I'm treatin it like the corner, fuck with me if you wanna My game change but my mindframe remains the same I gotta protect what's mine Shit I started from nothin; zero, zip I made my way hustlin, I don't owe niggaz shit I'm paranoid now, so I keep the gun gripped Cats I played skelly with? Niggaz done flipped I keep a banger in the ankle, one in the hip Two in the stash, one come up when I shift I keep one under the chair where I sit I even got a gun in the hair in the bun of my bitch Ask Big; everytime he'd come to my crib he'd find another gun that I hid I'm ready to make this one of the, hottest summer there is Everyday like a hundred-and-six.. shit.. Chorus 2X |
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| 14. |
| 4:02 |
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[Jay-Z]
Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course through the potholes and gravel Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle (bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz after you, up the avenue Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two Up against the wall, tryin to pass through Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like Chorus: Jay-Z N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest Marcy.. Brooklyn.. [Jay-Z] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM I'm so confrontational; they shoulda never let me go on probation yo I'm a hustler; except that.. no correctional facilities can correct that I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that Gotta get away, some try but head back Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back Some died, they left stacks Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice Jigga been cold as fuck before ice Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time Get your mind right niggaz Chorus: Jay-Z N.Y.M.P., the realest Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz Marcy.. feel me.. [Jay-Z] I looked Death in the face years back I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him? Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham Still I still pop him Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now I think big when I spit at you now Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha Between life and death, they killed my spirit So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball I ? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause cause I used to roam them halls Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college Who woulda thought I'd make it "Big" like Ms. Wallace? Chorus: Jay-Z Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz Marcy.. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me [Jay-Z] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds Fuck with me |
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| 15. |
| 1:17 |
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[Jay-Z]
Who ever thought young Shawn Carter would change the game? Used to rap to the raindrops off my window pane Duckin the plain cops, pushin indo and 'caine At the kitchen table late night, no pen, just my brain First album niggaz love me cause they thought I was poor Guess I'm successful; industry don't love me no more Well I'm the same nigga from your corner, bubblin raw Skully tilted, pants saggin, damn near touchin the floor And I come with do-rags to your so-called awards T-shirt with my chain out like fuck y'all all Retrospect ain't been the same since I lost my dad He's still alive, but still fuck you, don't cross my path A&R's had me feelin like moss in the drab So I turned the league out with "Reasonable Doubt" Get your CD's out, let's go, song for song I'm the illest nigga doin it til y'all prove me wrong Do you believe? It's Hova the God, uhh, uhh, uhh.. |
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| 16. |
| 14:21 |
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[Jay-Z]
Uh huh yea, yeah Duro! You gotta let it bump Uh, uh, uh like dat yeah Come on bring the chorus in 1 - I'd risk everything For one kiss, everything Yes I'd do anything (Anything?) Anything for you I뭗 do a bid, loose a rib, bust a cap, trustin' that Run up to heaven doors, exchange my life for yours Leave a steak out the door, mi casa, su casa Just remember to turn the lights off in the hall My brother from anotha pop, minus one shot We Neno and G-Money man, we all we got From the stoop to the big dudes, stoppin' us from playin' hoops And us gettin mad, throwin' rocks off the roof Straight thuggin' man, I thought we would never progress But look at us now man, we're young execs My nigga Dame, my nigga Biggs, my nigga Tah My nigga Ja, my nigga Gotti We embody all that뭩 right with the world No matter how pretty she is, you never likin' my girl That's how we run, when you ain뭪 around I'll spank ya son, keep him in line If you should die, I뭠l keep him like mine God forbid, keep this in mind, my nigga Repeat 1 Repeat 1 I know mama, your little baby But these streets raised me crazy Product of my environment, nothing can save me Thanks for letting me bloom for your wisdom for your womb For the roof over my head, for my shoes, for my bed For the most important lesson in life was when you said "Strive for what you believe in, set goals and you can achieve them" Thanks for the days you kept me breathing when my asthma was bad And my chest was weezin', thanks for the look of love Just as I was leavin' On nights you thought that I wouldn't come back That left you grieving' Thanks for holdin' down the household when times was bad As the man, I apologize for my dad When the rent was due, you would hustle like a pimp would do That wasn뭪 the life meant for you You뭨e a queen, you deserve the cream Everything that gleamed, everything that shines Everything that뭩 mine Repeat 1 Repeat 1 Check it out, uh, uh Dear nephews, I뭢 writing' this with no pen or a pad And I뭢 signing it, ya uncle, ya best friend, and ya dad Don't look back if you fall and you뭨e feeling bad I뭢 right there from your cut to when you peelin' the scab If it comes a time when you ain뭪 feelin' your real dad Put my face on his body don뭪 wait for nobody Don뭪 follow no nigga, that's hoe shit man Stand on your own two, do your shit man The world is yours Some girls are nice some girls are whores Don't listen to your crew Do what works for you Standin' back from situations gives you the perfect view You see the snakes in the grass and you wait on their ass Bite your tongue for no one and whatever is said Take it how they want, a closed mouth don't get fed, You know my number when it뭩 code red if you're wrong my nigga You뭨e my nephew, fuck it we get it on my lil nigga Repeat 1 until fade |
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