Jay-zSo Ghetto

[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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