Intro:. Ha ha ha ha Roc-a-Fella y'all. Futuristic shit beeotch. Uh what the fuck? How we do. How we do. Uh ha. Verse 1:. Triple platnum nigga with the solid gold fade. All that nickle and dime shit don't hold no weight. Fortune 5 top 5 in the Forbes (you'll see) as you. Thumb through the Source I read the Ride report. Class C cold me down with the plastic. That's all I Ask Of You like Raphael Saadiq. At the hotel Nico robbin' the val suite. My people's eyes through the peep hole. I'm lovin' you down freak as I. Shoot through the city like a rumor. Not soon enough to stop 'em from spreadin' the news. Paper headin' read "Jay-Z breaths 80 degrees". the only thing to cool them off is a Malibu day breeze. Can't sop for the feds say cheese. You know they wanna take a nigga picture. Pray for the day to get ya but I'm a parlay and stay richer for now. Jigga hasn't done dirt in a while. YOu know my stomach getin' weak from livin' on the streets for real. Tryin' to oversee it from suites orderin' eats. At the top where the criminal minds meet. That's where the cream is (right)  that's where your dream is (well ain't. it?). Hook:. You're only a customer (uh). Walkin' in the presence of hustlers. You spend money all night long. "All night long" - Mary J. Blige. Verse 2:. A-yo my youth had a nigga too aggressive. I use to speed excessive both eyes closed. No thought infested. Hittin' pot holes cop-o's will snatch your weight. But your game most precious. Had to rethink things is pinky ring worth. Life on the run and time served in Sing Sing. I don't know to tell the truth. If I'm pressed for doe I got to consoul Irv Gotti y'all. Irv Gotti:. Heads got to roll. Jay-Z:. I was raised to live Lord I pray you forgive. If not I just handle it like Jason Kidd. What 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 issue. I see it to the end my writting is so personal. My heart bleedin' out my pen make no mistake aobut me. It's only one nigga livin' I got a half a cake about me. I got love to make a nigga die bleedin' is nothin'. You make a motherfucker die breathin' then you sayin' somthing beeotch. Hook (X3). More flavor than y'all can image havin'. Graphic like Sega Saturn traffic like the Bodega. It just so happens you caught me at the the tail end of my dive. My brain ain't right from inhaling the work of my life. Fuck it 3's in ya had to hold. D.C. high pissy off Cristle. 3 G's high seasoned Bacardy UV's. Blesses my body we be fresh at the party. Play yourself go head if you don't no the ledge. It's like spittin' to God. Get it in your face fuckin' with niggas over your head. Take your time with me shiftee. Use to make Coke stretch like the samplin' a 950. Shit with that while I'm o a Kawasoki bike. At the light doin' a pike with a bitch on the back. And take flight my life like it was directed by Hype. In 35 slow-mo with the Rockafella logo. Accapoco to Arruba bay breezes and caviar baluga. Very little loot a loser. In the grashish blueish Les Coup it's the root of evil in these people. Hook (X3).