Lyrics:
Jay
Fuck that
This is it right here, baby
You know what it is
Yo, I used to have bad luck
Now you might see me in a Jag truck
Mad stuck,
continental, peddle to the floor
Lookin' for the highway to Heaven, remember when your babyboy was 7
We had good times like I was Jay Jay and you was Fleur
that old life so boring
I been goin' crazy I ain't thinkin' 'bout a lady
Only 23 I ain't thinkin 'bout a baby
I ain't thinkin' 'bout jobs where they pay
baby
4:44, cause I'm bumping to Jay-Z
Ayy, lil lady
Nobody cares bout leg day
I only care bout pay day
Then do the race like Tay-k
Your favorite lil
lately
More money can't ever change me
And these games can't ever play me
Imma really be paid like Jay Z
And I'm plotting my steps y'all in trouble in now
P.I.G., and several other New York rappers
Jay-Z, from "Hawaiian Sophie" fame, Big Little whatever
And several other corny sounding motherfuckers
Are
Out of range, never running out of game
Lotta chains, came with a lot of pain
Not a day goes by I ain't got a jay
Spending change, where that
Jay-Z infiltrated the south by making "nigga what nigga who"
And the markets fell for it
I wish master p would be signed an artist like me to balance
like Pete Rose
This year, I'm doing big things
Livin' day by day you know life ain't easy as it seems
Advice to my dogs, appreciate the simple things
of the wave
Don't drown
(Don't drown!)
Jay-Z, I learned the streets
Now "Run The Town"
("Run the town!")
(Woo!)
I'm with the squad
And we always going hard
alocada a lo Jay Z
I am rapper no fake
Making lots of Music all day
Only real people my game
I pay cloothes in USA BITCH
Bby I m sorry
Thankiu my god por
a Michelob, now I wanna Snicker though
Remind me of the old days
When my mama used to bang the O'Jays
Family reunion, ha ha, hey 8-track style
Mel-Man you
If I was Jay-Z, you'd be my Beyonce
We could rock the nation like they do
And if I was Da Vinci, you'd be Mona Lisa
Paint a smile perfectly on you
gettin better every day I miss the old me
And I'm rockin Jays on my feet and smellin skunky
Fonto in the function, these bitches couldn't front me
Late
So Brooklyn
This season I'm pulling up at the Barclays
Fuck what you heard my nigga
We gone start winning one day
So Brooklyn
I'm picking Jay Z
the champion is singing again
Bring back the good old days
When reggae music keep you rocking and swing
Bring back the good old days
When good music was reigning
motherfuck Snoop, motherfuck Death Row
Yo, and here comes my left blow
Cause I'm the E-A-Z-Y-E and this is the season
To let the real motherfuckin' G's in
motherfuck Snoop, motherfuck Death Row
Yo, and here comes my left blow
Cause I'm the E-A-Z-Y-E and this is the season
To let the real motherfuckin' G's in
Snatching rings and chains on the Q train
Just another day rolling through the hood
Ridin round up to no good -
(Ab-Soul) tell these niggas hollywood
You can
so-called car, who the man?
While I'm tuggin' on your main bitch head
Understand this: Ain't no nigga like me
Fuck Jay Z!
He broke and I smoke daily, baby,
Ain't got that much to show for it
Still had to sell my soul for it, just to get by
Uh, I woulda been dropping out days
Man I can't even think clearly
by day
But I spent my night time fighting tears back
I prayed and prayed and left messages but never got no hear back
Or so it seemed
A mustard
Remember the good old days
Before I was replaced by a fake
I'm not the only on that thinks
It's safe to say you've changed
(Away, away, away)
Fuck Jay Z, he's broke and I smoke daily
Baby, let's be friends
Friends, where's my niggas' at, come on y'all
No need to front, let's be friends
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