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 cannot 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
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
Okay 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 Commission
Five ten years from now they're gonna miss Jay-Z
Okay, I'm reloaded
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