| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 1:22 | 
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This is a public survice announcement sponsored by Just blaze and the good folks at Roc-A-Fella Records. Fellow Americans, It is with the upmost pride and sincerity that i present this recording as a militestament and recollection of history in the making during our generation. (Jay-Z) Allow me to re-introduce myself, My name is HOV H to the O-V, I used to move snowflakes by the O.Z., I guess even back then you can call me, C.E.O of the R.O.C HOV, Fresh out the frying pan into the fire, I be the, music biz number 1 supplier Flier than a piece or paper bearing my name, Got the hottest chick in the game wearing my chain, thats right HOV Not D.O.C, similar to the letters no one can do it better I check cheddar like a food inspector, My homie Strip to me dude finish yo breakfast, So thats what I'ma do take u back to the dude with the Lexus fast forward the jewels and the necklace, Let tell u dudes what i do to protect this, Shoot at u actors like movie directors (Ha-Ha This aint a movie dog) Now before i finish let me just say i did not come here to show out, I did not come here to impress you because tell u the truth when i leave here I'm GONE and i dont care what u think about me but just remember when it hits the fan brother whether its next year, ten years, twenty years from now you'll never be able to say that these brothers lied to you JACK. (Jay-Z) Ving aint lie, I done came thru the block in everything thats fly, I'm like Chagaverre wit bling on, I'm complex. I never claim to have wings on, nigga I get mine By any means on wheneva there |
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| 2. |
| 4:34 |
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Shawn Carter was born December 4th Weighing in at ten pounds, eight ounces He was the last of my four children The only one who didn't give me any pain, when I gave birth to him And that's how I knew, that he was a special child "Hi baby, what's wrong? You look like, you've lost your best friend Tell me, is it something that I've done again? You look like, you've lost your best friend Tell me.." [Verse One: Jay-Z] They say they never really miss you 'til you dead or you gone So on that note I'm leavin after this song See you ain't gotta feel no way about Jay so long At least let me tell you why I'm this way, hold on I was conceived by Gloria Carter and Adnus Reeves Who made love under the sycamore tree Which makes me, a more sicker MC and my momma would claim At ten pounds when I was born I didn't give her no pain Although through the years I gave her her fair share I gave her her first real scare, I made up for birth when I got here She knows my purpose wasn't (?), I ain't perfect, I care But I feel worthless cause my shirts wasn't matchin my gear Now I'm just scratchin the surface cause what's buried under there Was a kid torn apart once his pop disappeared I went to school, got good grades, could behave when I wanted But I had demons deep inside that would raise when confronted Hold on [Interlude: Gloria Carter] Shawn was a very shy child growing up He was into sports, and a funny story is At four, he taught himself how to ride a bike A two-wheel at that, isn't that special? But, I noticed a change in him.. when me and my husband, broke up [Verse Two: Jay-Z] Now all the teachers couldn't reach me and my momma couldn't beat me Hard enough to match the pain of my pop not seein me SO! With that disdain in my membrane Got on my pimp game, fuck the world, my defense came Then the Haven introduced me to the game Spanish Jose introduced me to 'caine; I'm a hustler now My gear is in, and I'm in the in-crowd And all the wavy light-skinned girls is lovin me now My self-esteem went through the roof, man I got my swag' Got a vocal from this girl when her man got bagged Plus I hit my momma with cash from a show that I had supposedly - knowin nobody paid Jaz like ass I'm gettin ahead of myself, by the way, I could rap That came second to me movin this crack Give me a second I swear, I would say about my rap career 'til ninety-six came, niggaz I'm here - goodbye! [Interlude: Gloria Carter] - *talking Shawn used to be in the kitchen, beating on the table and rapping And umm, into the wee hours of the morning And then I brought him a boombox And his sisters and brothers said that he would drive them nuts But, that was my way to keep him close to me, and out of trouble [Verse Three: Jay-Z] Goodbye to the game all the spoils, the adrenaline rush Your blood boils, you in a spot, knowin cops could rush at you in the drop, you so easy to touch No two days are alike, except the 1st and 15th pretty much And trust, is a word you seldom hear from us Hustlers, we don't sleep, we rest one eye up And a drought could define a man when the well dries up You learn the worth of water Without work you thirst 'til you die - YUP! And niggaz get tied up for product And little brothers ring fingers get cut up to show mothers they really got 'em And this is the stress I lived with 'til I decided to try this rap shit for a livin I pray I'm forgiven - for every bad decision I made Every sister I played - cause I'm still paranoid to this day And it's nobody fault, I made the decisions I've made This is the life I chose, or rather the life that chose me If you can't respect that, your whole perspective is whack Maybe you'll love me when I fade to black If you can't respect that, your whole perspective is whack Maybe you'll love me when I fade to black Now if you can't respect that, your whole perspective is whack Maybe you'll love me when I fade to black If you can't respect that, your whole perspective is whack Maybe you'll love me when I fade to black.. {*fading out*} |
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| 3. |
| 4:55 |
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"Are you not entertained? Are you not entertained?" "Is this not why you are here?" [Jay-Z] Uh uh-huh.. Uh uh-huh UHH {*crowd noise gets louder*} Turn the music up, turn me down Guru.. let's go get 'em again This time it's for the money my nigga Brooklyn, stand up [Verse One] There's never been a nigga this good for this long This hood, or this pop, this hot, or this strong With so many different flows there's one for this song The next one I switch up, this one will get bit up These fucks, too lazy to make up shit, they crazy They don't, paint pictures, they just, trace me You know what? Soon they forget where they plucked they whole style from, they try to reverse the outcome I'm like - TOUGH! I'm not a biter I'm a writer for myself and others I say a B.I.G. verse, I'm only biggin up my brother Biggin up my borough, I'm big enough to do it I'm that thorough, plus I know my own flow is foolish So them rings and things you sing about, bring 'em out It's hard to yell when the bar-rell's in your mouth I'm in - new sneakers, dual-seaters Few divas, what more can I tell you? Let me spell it for you Double-U I, double-L, I-E Nobody truer than, H-O-V And I'm back for more, New York's ambassador Prime Minister, back to finish my business up [Chorus] What more can I sayyyyyyyyyyy? What more can I doooooooooooo? I gave this up to youuuuuuuuu I know this much is truuuuuue, truuuuuuue [Jay-Z] What more can I say to you? You heard it all [Verse Two] You already know what I'm about, flyin birds down South Movin wet off the step, "Purple Rain" in a drought Stuntin on hoes; brushin off my shirt But ain't nuttin on my clothes 'cept my chain, my name Young H-O pitch the yay faithful Even if they patrol I make payroll Benz paid fo', friends they roll Private jets down to Church and Caycos Crist' caseloads, I don't give a shit Nigga one life to live, I can't let a day go by without me bein fly or fresh to death Head to toe 'til the day I rest And I don't wear jerseys, I'm thirty plus Give me a crisp pair of jeans, nigga button up S. Dots on my feet make my cipher complete What more can I say? Guru play the beat! We gon' let this ride into the hook - I'ma snap my fingers on this one What more can I say to you? - Get my grown man on LET'S GO! (What more can I sayyyyyyyyyyy?) [Verse Three] Now you know yo' ass is Willie when they got you in the mag for like half a billy, and yo' ass ain't lily white that mean that shit you write must be illy Either that or your flow is silly - it's both I don't mean to boast, but damn if I don't brag Them crackers gon' act like I ain't on they ass The Martha Stewart, that's far from Jewish Far from a Harvard student, just had the balls to do it And no I'm not through with it In fact, I'm just previewin it This ain't the show, I'm just EQ'n it One-two and I won't stop abusin it To groupie girls, stop false accusin it Back to the music - the Maybach roof is translucent Niggaz got a problem Houston! Heh What up B, they can't shut up me Shut down I, not even P.E., I'ma ride God forgive me for my brash delivery But I remember vividly what these streets did to me So picture me lettin these clowns nitpick at me Paint me like a pickany I will literally kiss T.T. in the forehead Tell her please forgive me then squeeze until you full 'head I'm not the one to score points off, in fact I got a joint that'll knock yo' points off Young, Hova the God, nigga blasphemy I'm at the Trump International, ask for me I ain't never scared, I'm everywhere you ain't never there And nigga, why would I ever care? Pound for pound I'm the best to ever come around here Excludin nobody, look what I embody The soul of a hustler, I really ran the street A CEO's mind, that marketin plan was me And no I ain't get shot up a whole bunch of times Or make up shit in a whole bunch of lines And I ain't animated like say I +Busta Rhymes+ But the real shit you get when you bust down my lines Add that to the fact I went plat' a bunch of times Times that by my influence on pop culture I'm supposed to be number one on everybody list We'll see what happens when I no longer exist Fuck this! (What more can I sayyyyyyyyyyy?) |
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| 4. |
| 4:11 |
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Thank you thank you thank you far too kind Now can I get an encore do you want more Cookin raw with the Brooklyn boy So for one last time I need y'all to roar Now what the hell are you waitin for After me there shall be no more So for one last time nigga make some noise Who you know fresher than Hov Riddle me that The rest of y'all know where I'm lyrically at Can't none of y'all mirror me back Yeah hearin me rap is like hearin G Rap in his prime I'm young H O rap's Grateful Dead Back to take over the globe now break bread I'm in Boeing jets Global Express Out the country but the blue berry still connect On the low but the yacht got a triple deck But when you Young what the fuck you expect Yep yep Grand openin grand closin God your man Hov cracked the can open again Who you gone find doper than him with no pen just draw off inspiration Soon you gon see you can't eplace him with cheap imitations for DESE GENERATIONS can I get an encore do you want more Cookin raw with the Brooklyn boy So for one last time I need y'all to roar What the hell are you waiting for Look what you made me do look what I made for you Knew if I paid my dues how will they pay you When you first come in the game they try to play you Then you drop a couple of hits look how they wave to you From Marcy to Madison Square To the only thing that matters in just a matter of years As fate would have it Jay's status appears to be at an all time high perfect time to say goodbye When I come back like Jordan wearin the 4 5 It ain't to play games witchu It's to aim at you probably maim you If I owe you I'm blowin you to smithereeens Cocksucker take one for your team And I need you to remember one thing one thing I came I saw I conquered From record sales to sold out concerts So much fucker if you want this encore I need you to scream til your lungs get sore It's star time This man is MADE He's KILLIN all y'all jive turkeys Do y'all want more of the Jigga man Well if y'all want more of the Jigga man Then I need y'all to help me bring him back to stage Say Hova comon say it HO VA HO VA Are y'all out there Are y'all out there come on louder Yeah now see that's what I'm talkin bou They love you Jigga they love you Jigga I like the way this one feel It's so muhc fuckin soulful man Yeah okay So this here is the victory lap Then I'm lea vin that's how you get me back After a year of them 16s it's one point two And that's two point four and I'm only doin two You wanted to gain attention new dudes I can get you B E T and T R L too You wanna be in the public send your budget Well fuck it I ain't budgin Young did it to death you gotta love it Record companies told me I couldn't cut it Now look at me all star studded Golfer above par like I putted All cause the shit I uttered was utterly ridiculous How sick is this You want to bang send Kanye change send Just some dust Send Hip a grip then you got spit A somethin like this What the hell are you waiting for |
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| 5. |
| 4:19 |
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Wooo Uh uh bounce is back I know y'all missed the bounce You need to bounce for the sexy y'know Hah haha uh let's get it in Yeah ma Your dude is back the Maybach Coupe is back Tell the whole world the truth is back You ain't gotta argue about who can rap Cause the proof is back just go through my raps New York New York Yeah where my troopers at Where my hustlers where my boosters at I don't care what you do for stacks I know the world glued your back to the wall You gotta brawl do that I been through that been shot at shoot back Gotta keep a peace piece like a Buddhist I ain't a New Jack nobody gon' Wesley Snipe me It's less than likely move back Let I breathe Jedi Knight The more space I get the better I write ohh Whenever I write but if ever I write I need the space to say whatever I like now I just change clothes and go You know I stay fresh to death a boy from the projects And I'ma take you to the top of the globe so let's go So let's exchange no airs and go Uh huh yeah And girl I promise you no substitutions Just me And I ain't gon' tell you again let's get ghost in the phantom You can bring your friend we can make this a tandem Or you can come by yourself if you can stand him Best believe I sweat out weaves Give Afro Puffs like R A G E Haul U get a view could move it Back it on up like a U Haul truck Then run and tell them ducks you heard Hovi new shit He and the boy Phar real make beautiful music He is to the East coast what Snoop is To the West what 'Face is to Houston Young Hov' in the house is so necessary No bra with that blouse that's so necessary No panties and jeans that's so necessary Now why you frontin on me is that necessary Do I to you look like a lame Who don't understand a broad with a mean shoot game Who's up on dot dot dot and Vera Wang Ma are you insane Let's just What you want me to do change clothes and go You know I stay fresh to death a boy from the projects And I'ma take you to the top of the globe so let's go So let's exchange no airs and go Uh huh yeah And girl I promise you no substitutions Just me Ha ha Sexy sexy ha ha Sexy sexy It's so necessary ma Ha ha Sexy sexy woo that's right it's a groove Ha ha Sexy sexy Young Hov' in the house is so necessary No bra with that blouse that's so necessary No panties and jeans that's so necessary Why you frontin on me Let's go to my hotel cause this don't go well with those S Dots gotta stay fresh ma Ma I don't shout with the rest pa Hoe no ma please respecy my Jiggyness is probably purple label Or that BBC shit or it's probably tailored And y'all niggaz actin way too tough Throw on a suit get it tapered up and let's just change clothes and go You know I stay fresh to death a boy from the projects And I'ma take you to the top of the globe so let's go So let's exchange no airs and go And girl I promise you no substitutions Just me Ha ha Sexy sexy ha ha Sexy sexy Ha ha Sexy sexy Ha ha Sexy sexy your boy is back uh huh the bounce is back uh uh woo uh Young is back hahahaha PEACE |
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| 6. |
| 4:05 |
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You're now tuned into the muh'fuckin greatest Turn the music up in the headphones Tim, you can go and brush your shoulder off nigga I got you, yeah [Chorus: Jay-Z] If you feelin like a pimp nigga, go and brush your shoulders off Ladies is pimps too, go and brush your shoulders off Niggaz is crazy baby, don't forget that boy told you Get, that, dirt off your shoulder [Verse One] I probably owe it to y'all, proud to be locked by the force Tryin to hustle some things, that go with the Porsche Feelin no remorse, feelin like my hand was forced Middle finger to the Lord, nigga grip I'm a boss Stab the ladies they love me, from the bleachers they screamin All the ballers is bouncin they like the way I be leanin All the rappers be hatin, off the track that I'm makin But all the hustlers they love it just to see one of us make it Came from the bottom the bottom, to the top of the pots Nigga London, Japan and I'm straight off the block Like a running back, get it man, I'm straight off the block I can run it back nigga cause I'm straight with the Roc [Chorus] [Chorus Two] You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder [Verse Two] Your homey Hov' in position, in the kitchen with soda I just whipped up a watch, tryin to get me a Rover Tryin to stretch out the coca, like a wrestler, yessir Keep the Heckler close, you know them smokers'll test ya But like, fifty-two cards when I'm, I'm through dealin Now fifty-two bars come it, now you feel 'em Now, fifty-two cars roll out, remove ceiling In case fifty-two broads come out, now you chillin with a boss bitch of course S.C. on the sleeve At the 40/40 club, ESPN on the screen I paid a grip for the jeans, plus the slippers is clean No chrome on the wheels, I'm a grown-up for real [Chorus] + [Chorus Two] [Verse Three] Your boy back in the building, Brooklyn we back on the map Me and my beautiful beeeeeeeitch in the back of that 'Bach I'm the realest that run it, I just happen to rap I ain't gotta clap at 'em, niggaz scared of that black I drop that +Black, Album+ then I back, out it As the best rapper alive nigga axe about me From Bricks to Billboards, from grams to Grammys The O's to opposite, Orphan Annie You gotta pardon Jay, for sellin out the Garden in a day I'm like a young Marvin in his hey' I'm a hustler homey, you a customer crony Got some, dirt on my shoulder, could you brush it off for me? [Chorus] + [Chorus Two] You're now tuned into the muh'fuckin greatest Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |
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| 7. |
| 4:07 |
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[Intro] Yo once a pimp gets threats That's right, that's the - the that's, that's threats them And I'm serious about mine, I'm so sin-surr And I, nigga I'll kill ya, I'll chop ya up Put ya inside the mattress like drug money nigga [Jay-Z] Yeah, I done told you niggaz 9 or 10 times stop fuckin with me I done told you niggaz 9 albums, stop fuckin with me I done told you niggaz The 9 on me, stop fuckin with me You niggaz must got 9 lives 9th wonder [Verse One] Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya Am I frightenin ya? Shall I continue? I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song I let it hum to ya, the other one sing along Now it's a duet, and you wet, when you check out the technique from the 2 tecs and I don't need two lips To blow this like a trumpet you dumb shit This is a un-usual musical I conductin You lookin at the black Warren Buffett so all critics can duck sic I don't care if you C. Delores Tuck-it Or you Bill O'Reilly, you only rylin me up For three years, they had me peein out of a cup Now they bout to free me up, whatchu think I'm gon' be, what? Rehabilitated, man I still feel hatred I'm young black and rich so they wanna strip me naked, but You never had me like Christina Aguiler-y But catch me down the Westside, drivin like Halle Berry Or the FDR, in the seat of my car Screamin out the sunroof death to y'all You can't kill me, I live forever through these bars I put the wolves on ya, I put a price on your head The whole hood'll want ya, you startin to look like bread I send them boys at ya, I ain't talkin bout Feds Nigga them body-snatchers, nigga you heard what I said [Chorus] I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the mornin Put your smarts on the side of your garment Nigga stop fuckin with me R. -- I. -- P. [Interlude] That's right there nigga, nigga I'm wild Nigga I keep trash bags with me Never know when you gotta dump a nigga out This sin-surr, this some sin-surr SHIT right hurr! [Verse Two] Grown man I put hands on you I dig a hole in the desert, they build The Sands on you Lay out blueprint plans on you We Rat Pack niggaz, let Sam tap dance on you Then, I Sinatra shot ya God damn you ... I put the boy in the box like David Blaine Let the audience watch, it ain't a thang Y'all wish I was frontin, I George Bush the button Front of all you in your car lift up your hood nigga run it Then lift up your whole hood like you got oil under it Your boy got the goods y'all don't want nuttin of it Like, castor oil, I Castor Troy you Change your face or the bullets change all that for you ... y'all niggaz is targets Y'all garages for bullets, please don't make me park it in your upper level, valet a couple strays from the 38 special, nigga, God bless you [Chorus] [Interlude] Yeah I'm threatening ya, YEAH I'm threatening ya! Who you thank you dealin with? They call me Chris, nigga I been makin threats since I been in kindergarten nigga! Huh, ask about me, see if you ain't heard [Verse Three] When the gun is tucked, untucked, nigga you dies like numchuks held by the Jet L-I I'm the one, thus meanin no one must try No two, no three, no four, know why? Because one's four-five might blow yo' high You ain't gotta go to church to get to know yo' God It's a match made in heaven when I {*blaow*} 'splay the 7 Put you on the nigga news, UPN at 11 Where you been, you ain't heard, got the word that I'm {*blaow blaow*} that I'm so sin-surr? I'm especially Joe Pesci with a grin I will kill you, commit suicide, and kill you again That's right [Chorus] [Outro] Whattup? Motherfucker I keep three motherfuckers what? Nigga I'll throw a Molotov cocktail through your momma's momma's house Nigga what the - where everybody live! Undercover nigga take your teeth out your mouth nigga Chew your food up and put the shit back in your mouth nigga and help you swallow Nigga I take a mop handle off nigga And sweep nigga - hold on, I'll be - nigga what? |
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| 8. |
| 4:24 |
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Woo! Geah, geah (Young), geah Uhh, turn the music up, turn the lights down I'm in my zone [Chorus] Thank God for grantin me this moment of clarity This moment of honesty - the world'll feel my truths All through my +Hard Knock Lifetime+, +A Gift and a Curse+ I gave you +Volume+ after +Volume+ of my work So you can feel my truths I built the +Dynasty+ by bein one of the realist niggaz out Way beyond the +Reasonable Doubt+ - y'all can't fill my shoes From my +Blueprint+ beginnin to that +Black Album+ endin Listen close you'll hear what I'm about Nigga, feel my truths [Verse One] Pop died, didn't cry, didn't know him that well Between him doin heroin and me doin crack sales With that in the eggshell, standin at the tabernacle Rather the church, pretendin to be hurt, wouldn't work So a smirk was all on my face Like damn, that man's face is just like my face So pop, I forgive you for all the shit that I lived through It wasn't all your fault, homey you got caught Into the same game I fought, that Uncle Ray lost My big brothers and so many others I saw I'm just glad we got to see each other Talk and re-meet each other Save a place in heaven 'til the next time we meet forever! [Chorus] [Verse Two] Music business hate me cause the industry ain't make me Hustlers and boosters embrace me and the music I be makin I dumbed down for my audience to double my dollars They criticized me for it yet they all yell "HOLLA!" If skills sold, truth be told, I'd probably be lyrically, Talib Kweli Truthfully I wanna rhyme like Common Sense But I did five mill' - I ain't been rhymin like Common since When your cents got that much in common And you been hustlin since, your inception Fuck perception go with what makes sense Since I know what I'm up against We as rappers must decide what's most impor-tant And I can't help the poor if I'm one of them So I got rich and gave back, to me that's the win/win So next time you see the homey and his rims spin Just know my mind is workin just like them... ... rims, that is [Chorus] [Verse Three] My homey Sig' was on a tear where no tears should fall Cause he was on the block where no squares get off See in my inner circle all we do is ball 'Til we all got triangles on our wall Ain't just rappin for the plat-i-num, y'all record I recall, cause I really been there before Four scores and seven years ago prepared the flow Prepared for war, I should fear no man You don't hear me though These words ain't just 'pared to go In one ear, out the other ear, no! Yo My balls and my word is alls I have Whatchu gon' do to me nigga, scars or scab? Whatchu gon' box me homey? I can dodge a jab Three shots couldn't touch me, thank God for dat I'm strong enough to carry Biggie Smalls on my back And the whole BK, nigga holla back [Chorus] |
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| 9. |
| 3:55 |
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If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one I got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed Rap critics that say he's Money Cash Hoes I'm from the hood stupid what type of facts are those If you grew up with holes in your zapatoes You'd celebrate the minute you was havin dough I'm like fuck critics you can kiss my whole ass hole If you like my lyrics you can press fast forward Got beef with radio if I play they show they play my hits well I give a shit SO Rap mags try and use my black ass So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads fuckers I don't know what you take me as Or understand the intelligence that Jay Z has I'm from rags to riches niggaz I ain't dumb I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one hit me 99 problems but a bitch ain't one If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one hit me year is ninety four in my trunk is raw In my rearview mirror is the motherfuckin law Got two choices y'all pull over the car or bounce on the Devil put the pedal to the floor And I ain't tryin to see no high way chase with Jake Plus I got a few dollars I can fight the case So I pull over to the side of the road Son do you know why I'm stoppin you for Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hat's real low do I look like a mindreader sir I don't know Am I under arrest or should I guess some mo Well you was doin fifty five in the fifty four license and registration and step out of the car are you carryin a weapon on you I know a lot you are I ain't steppin out of shit all my papers legit Well do you mind if I look around the car a little bit Well my glove compartment is locked so is the trunk in the back And I know my rights so you gon' need a warrant for that Aren't you sharp as a tack You some type oflawyer or somethin somebody important or somethin Child I ain't passed the bar but I know low little Enough that you won't illegally search my shit we'll see how smart you are when the canine comes I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one hit me 99 problems but a bitch ain't one If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one hit me 99 problems but a bitch ain't one If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one hit me Now once upon a time not too long ago A nigga like myself had to strong arm a hoe This is not a hoe in the sense havin a pussy But a pussy havin no God damn sense try an' push me I try to ignore talk to the Lord Pray for him but some fools just love to perform You know the type loud as a motorbike But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight And only thing that's gon' happen is I'ma get to clappin and he and his boys gon' be yappin to the Captain And there I go trapped in Kit Kat again Back through the system with the riff raff again Fiends on the floor scratchin again Paparazzis with they cameras snappin them D A try to give a nigga shaft again Half a mill' for bail cause I'm African All because this fool was harassin them Tryin to play the boy like he's saccharin But ain't nuttin sweet bout I hold my gun I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one hit me 99 problems but a bitch ain't one If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one hit me 99 problems but a bitch ain't one If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one hit me Havin girl problems I feel bad for you son I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one You crazy for this one Rick It's your boy |
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| 10. |
| 2:53 |
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This is a public service announcement Sponsored by Just Blaze and the good folks at Roc-A-Fella Records "Fellow Americans, it is with the utmost pride and sincerity that I present this recording, as a living testiment and recollection of history in the making during our generation." [Jay-Z] Allow me to re-introduce myself My name is Hov', OH, H-to-the-O-V I used to move snowflakes by the O-Z I guess even back then you can call me CEO of the R-O-C, Hov'! Fresh out the fryin pan into the fire I be the, music biz number one supplier Flyer/flier than a piece of paper bearin my name Got the hottest chick in the game wearin my chain, that's right Hov', OH - not D.O.C. But similar to them letters, "No One Can Do it Better" I check cheddar like a food inspector My homey Strict told me, "Dude finish your breakfast" So that's what I'ma do, take you back to the dude with the Lexus, fast-forward the jewels and the necklace Let me tell you dudes what I do to protect this I shoot at you actors like movie directors {*laughing*} This ain't a movie dog (oh shit) "Now before I finish, let me just say I did not come here to show out, did not come here to impress you Because to tell you the truth when I leave here I'm GONE! And I don't care WHAT you think about me - but just remember, when it hits the fan brother, whether it's next year, ten years, twenty years from now, you're gonna be able to say that these brothers lied to you JACK!" [Jay-Z] Ving ain't lie I done came through the block in everything that's fly I'm like, Che Guevara with bling on, I'm complex I never claimed to have wings on Nigga I get mine - by any means on whenever there's a drought Get your umbrellas out because, that's when I brainstorm You can blame Shawn, but I ain't invent the game I just rolled the dice, tryin to get some change And I do it twice, ain't no sense in me lyin as if, I am a different man And I could blame my environment but there ain't no reason why I be buyin expensive chains Hope you don't think youse as hardy Only a fews-us niggaz, gettin high within the game If you do then, how would you explain? I'm ten years removed, still the vibe is in my veins I got a hustler spirit, nigga period Check out my hat yo, peep the way I wear it Check out my swag' yo, I walk like a ballplayer No matter where you go, you are what you are player And you can try to change but that's just as hot player Man, you was who you was 'fore you got here Only God can judge me, so I'm gone Either love me, or leave me alone |
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| 11. |
| 4:04 |
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Uhh, this feel right right here Quik It's like it's 'sposed to happen this one right here Young! God damn.. .. let me justify my thug on this one right here [Verse One: Jay-Z] It goes one o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock rock Five six seven o'clock, eight o'clock rock Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, the party bout to pop Then - Roc-A-Fella y'all, it's your boy S. Dot And I ain't never been to jail; I ain't never pay a nigga to do no dirt for me I was scared to do myself I will never tell even if it means sittin in a cell I ain't never ran, never will I ain't never been smacked; a nigga better keep his hands to himself or get clapped for what's under that man's belt I never asked for nothin I don't demand of myself Honesty, loyalty, friends and then wealth Death before dishonor and I tell you what else I tighten my belt 'fore I beg for help Foolish pride is what held me together through the years I wasn't felt which is why I ain't never played myself I just play the hand I'm dealt, I can't say I've never knelt before God and asked for better cards at times to no avail But I never sat back feelin sorry for myself If you don't give me heaven I'll raise hell 'Til it's heaven [Chorus - imitating Madonna] Justify my thug! {*"For you!" - Run-D.M.C.*} My thug.. (hoping..) My thug.. (praying..) for you to justify my thug! My thug.. (hoping..) My thug.. (praying..) for you.. {*"For you! Fresh" - Run-D.M.C.*} [Verse Two: Jay-Z] Now if you shoot my dog, I'ma kill yo' cat Just the unwritten laws in rap - know dat For every action there's a reaction, don't have me relapsin Relaxin's what I'm about, but about mine Don't be actin like you can't see street action Take me back to +Reasonable Doubt+ time You see my mind's on the finish line, facin the wreck I put my muh'fuckin faith in the tec, tell Satan not yet You understand I am chasin my breath I am narrowly escapin my death, oh yes I am the Michael Schumacher of the Roc roster Travellin Mach 5, barrelin, my power can stop God God forgive me but I can't let them deliver me to you Until, I won this race, then eventually My engine gon' burn out, I get whatever is meant for me However it turns out fine - red line! [Chorus] [Verse Three: Jay-Z] They say an eye for an eye, we both lose our sight And two wrongs don't make a right But when you been wrong and you know all along that it's just one life At what point does one fight? (Good question right!) 'Fore you knock the war, try to put your dogs in it Ten-and-a-halfs, for a minute-and-a-half Bet that stops all the grinnin and the laughs When you play the game of life and the win ain't in the bag When your options is none and the pen is all you have or the block, niggaz standin tight, there's limits on the ave Tryin to cop or shot-call theyself cleansin in the cash But can't put they name on paper cause, then you on blast Mr. President, there's drugs in our residence Tell me what you want me to do, come break bread with us Mr. Governor, I swear there's a cover up Every other corner there's a liquor store - fuck is up? [Chorus] |
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| 12. |
| 3:12 |
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{"Lucifer, don of de morning! I'm gonna, chase you out of - earth"} {"Lucifer Lucifer, don of de morning.."} [Jigga] I'm from the murder capital, where we murder for capital {"Lucifer Lucifer, don of de morning! I'm gonna, chase you out of - earth"} [Jigga] Kanyeeze you did it again, you a genius nigga! {"Lucifer Lucifer, don of de morning.."} [Jigga] So you need to change your attitude [Jigga] For they askin what happened to you [Verse One] Lord forgive him, he got them dark forces in him But he also got a righteous cause for sinnin Them-a-murder me, so I gotta murder-dem First emergency, doctors performin procedures Jesus, I ain't tryin to be facetious, but "Vengeance is mine" said the Lord You said it better than all Leave niggaz on death's door, breathin on res-por-rators for killin my best, poor haters On permanent, hi-atus as I skate in the Maybach Benz, flyer than Sanaa Lathan Pumpin "Brown Sugar" by D'Angelo In Los Angeles, like an evangelist I can introduce you to your maker Bring you closer to nature Ashes after they cremate you bastards Hope you been readin your Psalms and chapters Payin your tithe, bein good Catholics, I'm comin {"Lucifer, don of de morning! I'm gonna, chase you out of - earth"} {"Lucifer Lucifer, don of de morning.."} [Jigga] I'm from the murder capital, where we murder for capital {"Lucifer Lucifer, don of de morning! I'm gonna, chase you out of - earth"} {"Lucifer Lucifer, don of de morning.."} [Jigga] So you niggaz change your attitude [Jigga] For they askin what happened to you [Verse Two] Yes, this is holy war I wet y'all all with the holy water Spray from Heckler-Koch order Matic auto-static, child cease to exist like a sabbatical, I throw couple at you, take six! Spread love, to all of my dead thugs I pour out a little Louis, to a head above Yessir, and when I perish, the meek shall inherit the earth 'Til that time, it's on and poppin, CHURCH Like Don Bishop, the fifth or palm cock either Lift up your soul or give you the holy ghost Please I leave you in somebody's cathedral for stuntin like Evel Knievel I let you see where that bright light lead you The more you talk, the more you irkin us The more you gon' need memorial services "The Black Album" second verse, is like Devil's pie, save some dessert for us [Interlude] Man, I gotta get my soul right, uhh I gotta get these devils out my life, uhh These cowards gonna make a nigga right, uhh They won't be happy 'til somebody die, uhh Oh man, I gotta get my soul right, uhh 'Fore I'm locked up for my whole life, uhh Every time it seems it's alright Somebody want they soul to rise I chase you off of this earth [Verse Three] Let me get serious for y'all, one second I got dreams, of holdin a nine milla, to Bob's killer Askin him why as my eyes fill up These days I can't wake up with a dry pillow Gone but not forgotten, homes I still feel you So, curse the day that birthed the bastard who caused your church mass, reverts to crash The first to blast then reverse the curse The first to date and there you are, Bobalob Lord forgive him, we all have sinned But Bob's a good dude, please let him in And if you feel in my heart that I long for revenge Please blame it on the son of the mornin', thanks again |
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| 13. |
| 4:53 |
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It's intoxicatin man y'all know why you do what you do The allure of breakin the law Is always too much for me to ever ignore I gotta thing for them big body Benzes it dulls my senses In love with a V Dub engine Man I'm high off life fuck it I'm wasted Bey Venay kicks or them Marvin Kaye wrists My women friend get tennis bracelets Trips to Venice get they winters replaced with the sun it ain't even fun no more I'm jaded Man it's just a game I just play it to play it put my feet in the footprints left to me Without sayin a word the ghetto's got a mental telepathy Man my brother hustled so naturally Up next is me but what perplexes me Shit I know how this movie ends still I play starrin role in Hovito's Way It's just life I solemnly swear To change my approach stop shavin coke Stay away from hoes put down the toast Cause I be doin the most But every time I felt that was that it called right back It called right back man it called me right back I'm like a Russian mobster drinkin distilled vodka 'Til I'm under the field with Hoffa it's real Pillow top him like a toupee Mix the water with the soda Turn the pot up make a souflee All of y'all can get it like group ays in your 2 way I'm livin proof that crime do pay Say hooray to the bad guy and all the broads puttin cars in they name for the stars of the game Puttin 'caine in they bras and their tomorrows on the train All in the name of love Just to see that love locked in chains and the family came over the house to take back everything that they claimed Or even the worst pain is the distress Learnin you're the mistress only after that love gets slain And the anger and the sorrow mixed up leads to mistrust Now it gets tough to ever love again But the allure of the game keeps callin your name all the Lauras of the world I feel your pain To all the Christies in every cities and Tiffany Lanes We all hustlers in love with the same thang It's just life I some swear To change my approach stop shavin coke Stay away from hoes put down the toast Cause I be doin the most But every time I felt that was that it called right back It called right back man it called me right back I never felt more alive than ridin shotgun In Cline's green 5 until the cops pulled guns And I tried to smoke weed to give me the fix I need what the game did to my pulse with no results And you can treat your nose still won't come close The game is a lightbulb with eleventy million volts And I'm just a mark addicted to the floss And doors lift from the floor and the tops come off By any means necessary whatever the cost Even if it means lives is lost And I can't explain why I just love to get high Drink life smoke the blueberry sky blink twice I'm in the blueberry 5 you blink three times I may not even be alive How mean James Dean couldn't escape the allure Dyin young leavin a good lookin corpse Of course solemnly swear To change my approach stop shavin coke Stay away from hoes put down the toast Cause I be doin the most But every time I felt that was that it call me right back it call me right back man it called me right back what's the getting sir life yeah tell it's a life what's the getting sir life |
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| 14. |
| 4:45 |
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[Notorious B.I.G. interview] I'm just, tryin to stay above water y'know Just stay busy, stay workin Puff told me like, the key to this joint The key to staying, on top of things is treat everything like it's your first project, knahmsayin? Like it's your first day like back when you was an intern Like, that's how you try to treat things like, just stay hungry [Verse One: Jay-Z] Uhh, uhh, yes, yes Y'all wanna know, why he don't stop Y'all wanna know, why he don't flop Let me tell you pe-eople why Came from the bottom of the block I When I was born, it was sworn, I was never gon' be shit Had to pull the opposite out this bitch Had to get my ri-ide on Eyes on the prize, Shawn knew I had to Had to had to get these chips Had to make moves like Olajuwon Started out sellin dimes and nicks Graduated to a brick No exaggeration, my infatuation with the strip Legendary like a schoolboy Crushin merely nearly every every chick Heavy shit - that's how schoolboy got whipped And got left on some "Just +Me, Myself and I+" On some Trugoy shit Had your boys threw place up, to a place of no return Had to play with fire and get burned Only way the boy ever gon' learn Had to lay way in the cut, 'til I finally got my turn Now I'm on top in the spot that I earned [Chorus] It's my life - it's my pain and my struggle The song that I sing to you it's my ev-ery-thing Treat my first like my last, and my last like my first And my thirst is the same as - when I came It's my joy and my tears and the laughter it brings to me It's my ev-ery-thing [Verse Two: Jay-Z] Like I never rode in a limo Like I just dropped flows to a demo Like it's ninety-two again and And I got O's in the rental Back in the Stu' again, no prob' livin was a whole lot simpler When you think back, you thought that you would never make it this far, then you take advantage of the luck you handed Or the talent, you been given Ain't no, half steppin, ain't no, no slippin Ain't no different from a block that's hidden Gotta get it while the getting's good Gotta strike while the iron's hot, 'fore you stop Then you gotta bid it, good riddance Goodbye, this is my second major breakup My first was, with a pager With a hooptie, a cookpot, and the GAME This one's with the stool, with the stage, with the fortune Maybe not the fortune, but certainly the FAME [Chorus] It's my life - my pain and my struggle The song that I sing to you it's my ev-ery-thing Treat my first like my last, and my last like my first And my thirst is the same as - when I came It's my joy and my tears and my laughter it brings to me It's my ev-ery-thing Treat my first like my last, and my last like my first And my thirst like the first song I sang [Outro: Jay-Z] Woo! It's like the blues - we gon' ride out on this one Ta-tah, be-hah Yo Hah, 'member you was makin them dashes for them niggaa at radio and shit? Clark Kent, that was good lookin out nigga Carlene - who ever thought we'd make it this far homey? Sha, they can't stop us, knahmsayin? Lenny S Dame whattup? Robbin the bank Niggaz thought we was crazy man, 'member uhh You had that fucked up ass handwritin You was writin all the numbers that we was spendin now for the videos we was doin ourselves, whattup? Original Flavor, your accountant was crazy wrong and shit But we we still put it together Bigs, whassup? 'Member we went to St. Thomas and uh But y'all my nizzle, your dog peed on homey leg and shit at his crib - I think that was Rudy And they was havin a lil trouble with the pool You and Ta-tah was laughin Emory was there, whattup Emory? What up Ta? Hip-Hop, whattup man? Ay, ay Hobb, you ain't, you ain't have no uhh You ain't have no muh'fuckin seat on your, on your bicycle Now you uhh, the head of black music That's what I'm talkin bout right there homey - G, whattup G? Yessir, e'rybody in the Roc Hey Guru, I know you spoiled man I be takin them shits in one take You gon' have to punch niggaz shit, STICK IT, you gon' be tight OG One, whattup? I'm a little upset that you wasn't involved in this whole process But it's all good - whassup Dash? My whole family, my nephew, cousin Angie, whassup? Te-Tee (B, B, B, B) Mom, you made the album, how crazy is that? Bob Allah, rest in peace My pops, rest in peace (Sup A.J.?) Biggie Smalls, rest in peace Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh Nigga, I'm bout to go golfin man Ay, I might even have me a cappuccino, fuck it! I'm goin somewhere nice where no mosquitos at nigga Holla at me - it's your boy! |
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가슴네트워크 Review :: 2004-01-03
Subject : Jay-Z - The Black Album (Roc-a-Fella,2003)
