Jay-ZYou’re Only A Customer

Intro:Ha ha, ha ha, roc-a-fella y’allFuturistic shit beeotchUh, what the fuck? how we do. how we do. uh haVerse 1:Triple platnum nigga with the solid gold fadeAll that nickle and dime shit, don’t hold no weightFortune 5, top 5 in the forbes (you’ll see) as youThumb through the source I read the ride reportClass c, cold me down with the plasticThat’s all I ask of you, like raphael saadiqAt the hotel, nico, robbin’ the val suiteMy people’s eyes through the peep holeI’m lovin’ you down freak as iShoot through the city like a rumorNot soon enough, to stop ’em from spreadin’ the newsPaper headin’ read jay-z breaths, 80 degreesThe only thing to cool them off is a malibu day breezeCan’t sop for the feds, say cheeseYou know they wanna take a nigga picturePray for the day to get ya, but I’m a parlay and stay richer for nowJigga hasn’t done dirt in a whileYou know my stomach getin’ weak from livin’ on the streets for realTryin’ to oversee it from suites, orderin’ eatsAt the top where the criminal minds meetThat’s where the cream is (right) , that’s where your dream is (well ain’tIt? )Hook:You’re only a customer (uh)Walkin’ in the presence of hustlersYou spend money all night longAll night long - mary j. bligeVerse 2:A-yo my youth had a nigga too aggressiveI use to speed excessive, both eyes closedNo thought infestedHittin’ pot holes, cop-o’s will snatch your weightBut your game most preciousHad to rethink things, is pinky ring worthLife on the run and time served in sing singI don’t know to tell the truthIf I’m pressed for doe, I got to consoul irv gotti y’allIrv gotti:Heads got to rollJay-z:I was raised to live, lord I pray you forgiveIf not, I just handle it like jason kiddWhat you’re facin’ is official (it’s official)Most cases when I’m blazin’ won’t miss you (won’t miss you)Case and point mad bullshitted issueI see it to the end, my writting is so personalMy heart bleedin’ out my pen, make no mistake aobut meIt’s only one nigga livin’, I got a half a cake about meI got love, to make a nigga die bleedin’ is nothin’You make a motherfucker die breathin’ then you sayin’ somthing, beeotchHook (x3)More flavor than y’all can image havin’Graphic like sega, saturn, traffic like the bodegaIt just so happens, you caught me at the the tail end of my diveMy brain ain’t right from inhaling the work of my lifeFuck it, 3’s in ya, had to holdD.c. high pissy off cristle3 g’s high seasoned bacardy, uv’sBlesses my body, we be fresh at the partyPlay yourself go head if you don’t no the ledgeIt’s like spittin’ to godGet it in your face fuckin’ with niggas over your headTake your time with me, shifteeUse to make coke stretch like the samplin’ a 950Shit with that, while I’m o a kawasoki bikeAt the light, doin’ a pike, with a bitch on the backAnd take flight, my life like it was directed by hypeIn 35 slow-mo, with the rockafella logoAccapoco to arruba, bay breezes and caviar balugaVery little loot, a loserIn the grashish blueish, les coup it’s the root of evil in these peopleHook (x3)
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