[Jay-Z] Turn my music high, high, high, high-er "You don't know.. what you're doing, doing, doing, doing.." Sure I do..
I'm from the streets where the Hood could swallow a man, bullets'll follow a man There's so much coke that you could run the slalom And cops comb the shit top to bottom They say that we are prone to violence, but it's home sweet home Where personalities crash and chrome meets chrome The coke prices up and down like it's Wall Street homes But this is worse than the Dow Jones your brains are now blown All over that brown Brougham, one slip you are now gone Welcome to hell where you are welcome to sell But when them shells come you better return 'em All scars we earn 'em, all cars we learn 'em like the back of our hand We watch for cops hoppin out the back of van Wear a G on my chest, I don't need that for damn This ain't a sewn outfit homes, homes is about it Was clappin them flamers before I became famous For playin me y'all shall forever remain nameless I am Hov'
Sure I do, I tell you the difference between me and them They tryin to get they ones, I'm tryin to get them M's One million, two million, three million, four In just five years, forty million more You are now lookin at the forty million boy I'm rapin Def Jam 'til I'm the hundred million man R., O., C.
"You don't know.. what you're doing, doing, doing, doing.." That's where you're wrong
I came into this motherfucker a hundred grand strong Nine to be exact, from grindin G-packs Put this shit in motion ain't no rewindin me back Could make 40 off a brick but one rhyme could beat that And if somebody woulda told 'em that Hov' would sell clothin Heh, not in this lifetime, wasn't in my right mind That's another difference that's between me and them Heh, I'm smarten up, open the market up One million, two million, three million, four In eighteen months, eighty million more Now add that number up with the one I said before You are now lookin at one smart black boy Momma ain't raised no fool Put me anywhere on God's green earth, I'll triple my worth Motherfucker - I, will, not, lose
"You don't know.. what you're doing, doing, doing, doing.." Put somethin on it
I sell ice in the winter, I sell fire in hell I am a hustler baby, I'll sell water to a well I was born to get cake, move on and switch states Cop the Coupe with the roof gone and switch plates Was born to dictate, never follow orders Dickface, get your shit straight, fucka this is Big Jay I.. hahahaha..