[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 light. 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.