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Jay-Z - The Blueprint 2: The Gift & the Curse Album Lyrics

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Jay-Z - The Blueprint 2: The Gift & the Curse Lyrics






A Dream

[Jay-Z] It was all a dream
[scratched simultaneously: "It was all a dream" - B.I.G.]

[Faith Evans + (Jay-Z)]
Last night I had a dream
Thoughts was racin through my head (it was all a dream)
Felt so real to me
This is what was said..

[Jay-Z]
Had a dream I said, bout who he said?
Bout B.I.G. I said, that's big he said
Dig he said, proceed he said
Indeed I said, so - breathe I did
Don't repeat what I say I said, he said nothin
He agreed with his head, he just nodded like this
What I believe to be a yes I re-peated what was said
It came to me like a .. well as even I said
"You feel playboy," was the greeting he said
First thing I wanted to know, what's the reason he was dead?
"More money, more problems, better believe it," he said
"Careful what you wish for you might receive it," he said
I see I said, jealousy I said
Got the whole industry mad at me I said
Then B.I. said, "Hov' remind yourself
nobody built like you, you designed yourself"
I agree I said, my one of a kind self
Get stoned every day like Jesus did
What he said, I said, has been said before
"Just keep doin your thing," he said, say no more

[Faith Evans]
Was it all a dream - tell me
Was it all a dream, was it a dream
Was it all a dre-eeee-eeeee-eeam
I gotta know ("It was all a dream")
Was it all a dream - was it a dream
Was it all a dream, a dream
Was it all a dre-eeee-eeeee-eeam

[Notorious B.I.G.]
It was all a dream, I used to read Word Up magazine
Salt'n'Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine
Hangin pictures on my wall
Every Saturday, "Rap Attack," Mr. Magic, Marley Marl
I let my tape rock 'til my tape popped
Smokin weed and bamboo, sippin on private stock
Way back, when I had the red and black lumberjack
with the hat to match
Remember Rappin' Duke? "Duh-ha, duh-ha"
You never thought that hip-hop would take it this far
Now I'm in the limelight cause I rhyme tight
Time to get paid, blow up like the ("World Trade")
Born sinner, the opposite of a winner
Remember when I used to eat sardines for dinner
Peace to Ron G, Brucey B, Kid Capri
Funkmaster Flex, Lovebug Starsky
I'm blowin up like you thought I would
Call the crib, same number same hood, it's all good
Uhh, and if you don't know, now you know, nigga

[Faith Evans]
Was it all a dream - tell me
Was it all a dream, was it a dream
Was it all a dre-eeee-eeeee-eeam
I gotta know ("It was all a dream")
Was it all a dream - was it a dream
Was it all a dream, a dream
Was it all a dre-eeee-eeeee-eeam

("It was all.. a dream")
("It was all..")
("It was all.. a dream")
("It was all a dream")
("It was all.. a dream")
("It was all..")
("It was all.. a dream")

[the beat drops out and Jay-Z raps the next part acapella]

[Jay-Z]
I see I said, jealousy I said
Got the whole industry mad at me I said
Then B.I. said, "Hov' remind yourself
nobody built like you, you designed yourself"
I agree I said, my one of a kind self
Get stoned every day like Jesus did
What he said, I said, has been said before
"Just keep doin your thing," he said, say no more
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHRISTOPHER WALLACE, JAMES MTUME, JEAN CLAUDE OLIVIER, SEAN J. COMBS, SHAWN CARTER
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
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Hovi Baby

I f*cks with Hova
I want you to know
It's something about you
I f*cks with Hova
I f*cks with Hova
Trackmaster's XO
This remix is for you
Let's go.

Untouchable, unbreakable, unshakeable, (it's Hovi baby)
can't see the unseeable, reach the unreachable
Do the impossible (it's Hovi baby)
Yes... (Remix) Yes... Yes... Baby (it's Hova)

First I had streets, then I had charts
First I had the end, now I have their heart
Rappers came and went, I been here from start
I see them put it together, watch them take it apart
See the rovers roll up with the ribbons
I see them repo, resold, and redriven, so when I reload
The number one positions, when you had them hot
And when your feet cold, mines is sizzling
When you see, niggas can't f*ck with me
Cuz I'm gonna be a nigga for life
Oh this is not a gimmick
This is God given, this is harder than
Mix with cris dom sippin
This is the most consistent
Give me the most hits that you can fit inside a double disc
And hold me a pony charts, you niggas vision it
This whole edition, Jeff Gordon and rap
I'm going to claim whole position
Holla at ya

[Chorus]
can't touch the untouchable, break the unbreakable
Shake the unshakeable (it's Hovi baby)
can't see the unseeable, reach the unreachable
Do the impossible (it's Hovi baby)
can't move the unmoveable, stop the stoppable
Top the untoppable (it's Hovi baby)
Yes... (Remix) Yes... Yes... Baby (it's Hovi)

I'm so far ahead of my time
I'm about to start another life
Look behind you, I'm about to pass you twice
Back to the future, got a snow for the present
I'm fast, dude can't get passed my past
When I close the deal with the perfect present
When I unwrap the gift and the curse with a different verse
And I'm so far ahead of my time
My grandpop just met my grandma at a high school prom
And I'm so far ahead of my time
These rhymes is weak
Till four years later, they on time release
Hiphop when you take them, cop your four copa
You releaize A track needed a autopsy
The more tracks I'm on, the more I catch bodies
If not listen, further you're missing a murder
Like NYPD, LAPD, NYDA, OJ Jury's

[Chorus]

Crush linen, what's winning
If it aint him in the flesh, continue to guess
I'm about to retire my jersey, f*ck Mitchell and this
I'm gonna throw back old school kicks in
Sixty-nine yeah, same year I was born
Flip the numbers yeah, same year I got on
Ninety-six, yeah, I used to rhyme with the Don
Shit out the big, Brooklyn I got this shit
Here is something haters can't figure out
Who Vanilla first weed, man they still jigga'd out
See, I even sell CD's in the crowd
The hardest dude out since these nibble'd out
Hovi Baby, love me, or blow me baby
F*ck you you'll pay me, or owe me baby
There in and out
Check the charts, I'm wearing you out
I'm about to drop the black album in a year
And I'm out

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: KENNETH EDMONDS, SHAWN CARTER
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
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The Watcher 2

[Jay-Z]
Jeah.. uhh.. it's what I do for a livin nigga
Eat for a livin nigga (watcher)
That's how I live for a livin nigga.. (watcher)
Okay, let's do this (the watcher)

[Verse One: Jay-Z]
Things just ain't the same for gangsters
But I'm a little too famous to shoot these pranksters
All of these rap singers claimin they bangers
Doin all sorts of twisted shit with they fingers
Disrespectin the game, no home trainin or manners
I was doin this shit when you was shittin Pampers
I was movin them grams 'fore you, knew what a hand that hand was
Duckin the vans, radars, the scanners
'Fore you knew what hard white to tame was
I was hittin the turnpike, aight with the bammers
I was nice with my hands, cuss aight with them hammers
I was prickin my finger 'fore you knew what a Fam was
I had it laid out 'fore you knew what a plan was
Three hundred mill' later, now you understand us
Y'all ain't see us comin through Vegas
You ever seen so much cham' bust in one night
Grand f*cked up one fight
I was on the Peter Pan bus
You was Peter Pan up in your room, y'all f*ckin with whom?
Allowed me to be taught
You cowards is just now learnin the shit that we talk
You niggaz ain't know about a Robb Report
Bout a high speed Porsche, i.e.
You niggaz ain't know how to floss 'til I came through the door
like "Eric B. for Pres," respect me in this BITCH!
You can't disrespect us cause you got a little check cut
You was suckin for so long, f*ckin your little neck up
Now you too big for your britches, you got a few little bitches
You think you Hugh Hefner, you just ridiculous
I blew breath for you midgets, I gave life to the game
It's only right I got the right to be king
Niggaz that got life really like what I sing
Cause they know is he really like, niggaz feel my pain
Know the shit I DON'T write be the illest shit that's ever been recited
in the game word to the hyphen in my NAME!
J, A, Y, DASH, Hoffa
The past present nigga the future, proper
The holy trinity of hip-hop is us
We give, Dre his props BUT that's where it stops
It's the Roc

[Chorus: Truth Hurts]
I know, you got your eyes on me
I feel you watchin me
But it ain't hard to see that you can't see me
You try, but what you think you saw
Ain't what you thought you saw
You bed-da off not lookin at all
(Everywhere that I go, ain't the same as befo')
(People I used to know, just don't know me no mo')
(But everywhere that I go, I got people I know)
(Who got people they know, so I suggest you lay low)

[Verse Two: Dr. Dre]
I'm still on top of the game
Still droppin flames, still cock and aim
Still at the top had the Roc for the fame
over setbacks, there's been a lot since I came
You seen it all, how I got, how I gained
The momentum when it dropped, how I got through the pain
When I roll and shock, they watched me reclaim
the streets, they made a special spot for my name
Dre, haters wanna stop to my reign
But the music lives in me, every drop in my veins
The pride and the pain
All the way back from the rise of my name
See the world clear through the eyes of the mane
See the world chear for the rhymes that I gave
When the beat bangs it'll drive them insane
The eyes that I played
The best to emerge in the game is The Watcher

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: Rakim]
I'm "Rated R," my brain contains graphics thangs
It turn traumatic teens into addicts, and fiends
It's like, watchin a movie through a panoramic screen
Which means, I can see the whole planet in the scene
Cash is the topic, the object, a fatter pocket
Some take the crack and chop it, but those that haven't got it
take away the added profit, it's catastrophic
I take the gat and cock it, and I'll sit back and watch it
These New York streets is ugly, I keep it gully
The world is mine and can't nobody keep it from me
Yo, my neighborhood is never sunny
In the place where the number one cause of death is money
You can try copin
I've seen enough shit to leave your frame of mind broken
I'm still alive and scopin
Be another hundred years 'til my skies close in
And I'ma die with my eyes open, the watcher [echoes]

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SHAWN CARTER, SHAWN C CARTER, WILLIAM GRIFFIN, MARSHALL B III MATHERS, SHARI ANITA WATSON, ANDRE ROMELL YOUNG
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC
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'03 Bonnie & Clyde

[ Featuring Beyoncé ]

Uh, uh, uh
You ready, B?
Let's go get 'em

Look for me
Young B, cruisin' down the Westside Highway
Doin' what we like to do, our way
Eyes behind shades
This necklace the reason all of my dates been blind dates
But today I got my thoroughest girl with me
I'm mashin' the gas, she's grabbin' the wheel
It's trippy how hard she rides with me
The new Bobby and Whitney
Only time we don't speak is during "Sex and the City"
She gets Carrie fever, but soon as the show's over
She's right back to being my soldier
'Cause mami's a rider and I'm a roller
Put us together, how they gon' stop both us?
Whatever she lacks, I'm right over her shoulder
When I'm off track, mami is keepin' me focused
So let's lock this down like it's supposed to be
The '03 Bonnie and Clyde: Hov' and B, holla

All I need in this life of sin
Is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend)
Down to ride 'til the very end
It's me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend) (that's right)
All I need in this life of sin
Is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend) (look for me)
Down to ride 'til the very end
It's me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend)

The problem is, you dudes treat the one that you lovin'
With the same respect that you treat the one that you humpin'
That ain't 'bout nothin'
If ever you mad about somethin'
It won't be that, oh no, it won't be that
I don't be at places where we comfy at
With no beatch, oh no, you won't see that
And no, I ain't perfect
Nobody walkin' this earth's surface is
But, girlfriend, work with the kid
I keep you workin' that Hermès Birkin bag
Manolo Blahnik Timbs, Aviator lens
600 drops, Hercedes Benz
The only time you wear Burberry to swim
And I don't have to worry, only worry is him
She do anything necessary for him
And I do anything necessary for her
So don't let the necessary occur, yep

All I need in this life of sin
Is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend)
Down to ride 'til the very end
It's me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend) (that's right)
All I need in this life of sin
Is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend) (look for me)
Down to ride 'til the very end
It's me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend)

(Talk to 'em, B) If I was your girlfriend
I'll be there for you, if somebody hurts you
Even if that somebody was me (that's hot)
Yeah-hee (break it down for 'em, B)
Sometimes I trip on how happy we could be (take 'em up top)
And so I put this on my life
Nobody or nothing will ever come between us
And I promise I'll give my life
My love and my trust if you was my boyfriend (one more time)
Put this on my life
The air that I breathe in, all that I believe in
I promise I'll give my life
My love and my trust if you was my boyfriend

All I need in this life of sin
Is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend)
Down to ride 'til the very end
It's me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend) (that's right)
All I need in this life of sin
Is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend)
Down to ride 'til the very end
It's me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Tyrone Wrice, Prince Nelson, Tupac Shakur, Shawn Carter, Darryl Harper, Ricky Rouse, Kanye West
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
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Excuse Me Miss

You can't roll a blunt to this one
You gotta, you gotta well, you gotta light a J
You gotta puff a J on this one
You can't even drink Crist-owl on this one
You gotta drink Crist-all
Buy some red wine, a little Gaja 9-7

You're so contagious, I can't take it, have my baby, let's just make it
This is for the grown and sexy
Excuse me, what's your name?
Yeah, can I get my grown man on for one second?
'Cause I see some ladies tonight that should be hanging with Jay-Z, Jay-Z
So hot to trot, lady
Excuse me miss, what's your name?
Can you come, hang with me?
Possibly, can I take you out, tonight?

You already know what it's hitting for
Ma, I got whatever outside and you know what I'm sitting on
50/50 venture with them S dots kicking off
Armadale popping now, only bring a nigga more
Only thing missing is a Missus
You ain't even gotta do the dishes, got two dishwashers
Got one chef, one maid, all I need is a partner
To play spades with the cards up, all trust
Who else you goin' run with, the truth is us
Only dudes moving units, Em, Pimp Juice and us
It's the Roc in here
Maybach outside, got rocks in air
PJ's on the runway, Young got air
I don't land at a airport, I call it the clearport
Therefore, I don't wanna hear more
Back and forth about who's hot as Young, holla

Excuse me, damn
You're so contagious, I can't take it, have my baby, let's just make it
I got my Gaga 9-7 on right now
Lady (you gotta puff a J to this one
Can't roll a blunt up to this one boy)
You're so contagious, I can't take it, have my baby, let's just make it
Excuse me, what's your name?
'Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be rolling with Jay-Z, Jay-Z
So hot to trot
Lady! What's your name?
'Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be rolling with Jay-Z, Jay-Z
You're so hot to trot

Everybody's like, "He's no item, please don't like him
He don't wife 'em, he one nights 'em"
Now she don't like him, she never met him
Groupies try to take advantage of him, he won't let 'em
He don't need 'em, so he treats 'em like he treats 'em
Better them than me, she don't agree with him
She's mad at that, he's not having that
So those opposites attract like mag-a-nets
She sees more than the Benz wagon, the friends taggin' along
With a flashy nigga bragging on the song
She gets a glimpse of Shawn and she likes that
He 2-ways her, so she writes back
Smiley faces after all of her phrases
Either she the one or I'm caught in "The Matrix"
But f*ck it, let the Fish-burne
Red or green pill, you live and you learn, c'mon

Excuse me, damn (you gotta throw on your fine linens for this one)
You're so contagious, I can't take it, have my baby, let's just make it
Lady (gotta throw on your Scooby Doo's, those are shoes by the way)
You're so contagious, I can't take it, have my baby, let's just make it
Excuse me, what's your name? You're so foxy girl
This for the grown and sexy, only for the grown and sexy
Lady! What's your name?
You're so foxy girl, you're so hot to trot

Love let's go half on a son, I know my past ain't one
You can easily get past, but that chapter is done
But I'm done reading for now
Remember spades face up, you can believe him for now
But ma, you got a for real f'serious role
I'm 'bout to give you all the keys and security codes
'Bout to show you where the cheese, let you know I ain't playing
But, before I jump out the window, what's your name?

Excuse me, damn
You're so contagious, I can't take it, have my baby, let's just make it
Lady, you're so contagious, I can't take it, have my baby, let's just make it
Excuse me, what's your name?
You're so foxy girl, so hot to trot
Lady! What's your name?
You're so foxy girl, you're so hot to trot
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Chad Hugo, Pharrell Williams, Shawn Carter
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Capitol CMG Publishing, Integrity Music, Missing Link Music, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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All Around The World

Swear to God I just touched down

[Chorus: Jay-Z + (LaToiya)]
All around the world.. (same song)
Killa Cali nigga (same song)
A-T-L (same song)
Real-adelphia.. dude it's all around the world

[Jay-Z]
London, England, South of France
And all points between they know about your man
Konichiwa ladies when I'm out in Japan
I'm a Tokyo Giant like Ichiro, I am
piss poor nigga from the hood but I blew
Now I bounce six-fours up and down Crenshaw
Spot me the hotel, the Cap', or Capri
Bathrobe, slippers in the lobby like weed
Your man'll stand manta ray, handlin a steak
And handlin the modern stand about five-eight
Five-nine fine wine fine dine either that
or I'm mixin in Switzerland, tryin to buy time
Ballin out in Bali when it's gorgeous out in Cali
Brunchin at the 4 Seasons, off the heezy
When it's back home nigga back to the zone
Nigga back to the books to the rhymes that took me

[Chorus: Jay-Z + (LaToiya)]
All around the world.. (same song)
Brooklyn bombers (same song)
Detroit players (same song)
Chi-Town.. all around the world

[Jay-Z]
Said it's all love, Sure Club, M-I-A
Party at bungalow eight, when I stay
Pool look like a hundred Beyonce's
A couple fiances, I'm the new DeVante
"Come and Talk to Me" mami in the Ea-sy
Garant, I hope, she ain't too young
Only twenty-one and older let another nigga mold her
I'm just tryin to show her how a baller and a roller
sleep one place, sell the pie to keep the engine
runnin then I wake up in Martha's Vineyard
Same boss this year, I think I'm gon' spend Christmas
reminisce about the time my mom couldn't spend Christmas
Now I'm gon' send her on her own little wish list
Anywhere in the world, anywhere for my girl
Forever my lady, blind crippled and crazy
A ticket and you pay to see D - sweet Sade

[LaToiya]
Sade, Sade, don't you know I love you sweet Sade, Sade
All around the world

[Jay-Z]
Said it ain't where you from yo it's where you at
Real niggaz out in Brooklyn, some niggaz don't clap
It's real killers out in Cali, some niggaz just act
Hollywood like they out the hood, it's all to the good
Real players in the D-Twa, some of them throwed
Slackin on they mackin, rest haven for hoes
Real pranksters in the Chi, most of them real folks
Disciplined Gangsters, come on Charlie I know
Shit it ain't about your city or borough
It's bout if you really as thorough
And if you are, holla at your boy
I put my hand on my heart, that means I feel you
Real recognize real and you lookin familiar
I'ma Bed-Stuy nigga but I do it to death
I promise I'm as St. Thomas homey eatin at Chef's
One-twelve, A-T-L, the sun up yet?
Then we party like the sun don't set

[LaToiya]
We gon' take you all around the world.. it's the same song (same song)
Everywhere (same song)
It's the same song (same song)
We gon' take you all around the world.. same song (same song)
Same song (same song)
Same song (same song)
All around the world..

[harmonizing to the end]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHARLES B. SIMMONS, BRUCE ANDRE HAWES, JOSEPH B. JEFFERSON, SHAWN CARTER, JAMES A. VITTI, GEORGE CLINTON, J.S. THERACON, EDWIN R. HAWKINS, WILLIAM EARL COLLINS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
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Guns & Roses

[ Featuring Lenny Kravitz ]

Yeah, it's magic
Uh, Jay-Z and Lenny Kravitz
And it's a Heavy D production, you bastards
Come on
Ha, hey yo, stop playing man
This is real serious
Ha (it's the Roc) yeah, yo
Let's go

Post Positano, Hov' hanging with Bono
U2 can live like Salvatore Ferragamo
And you, too, can cool out poolside at the Delano
If you, too, flow like you was out of your mind yo
'Cause who knew dude that loved apple pies from McDonald's
Would soon be the boss of the Big Apple, ya know
And who knew dude that played ball for the NBA
Would make a mistake on the who knew estates, throw it away
Who knew that would be his last shot, who drew up that play
They giveth and they taketh, life is cruel that way
But even a broken clock is right at least two times a day
You could have turned guns into roses like two times today
Now here's something you gotta say, two times to Jay
I got my shades on waiting for the sun to shine my way
Got my boom box, suntan lotion waiting for action
They say when you play with skills, good luck could happen
Let's go

(C'mon) It's the Roc
(C'mon) It's the Roc
(C'mon) It's the Roc
(C'mon) Let's rock
(C'mon)

Things got too hot so I jumped off in this rap shit
You got it Kris-krossed ain't no turning me backwards
Too many District Attorneys concerned with the actions
Of one individual, he's criminally attached
I turned in all my rap chips I'm earning my bachelors
By dating all the models and actresses
I'm learning all the potholes in every single barrio
Trying not to mess up my axis kid
On the road to the riches through trafficking
Through rapping and whatever's happening
Rocawear, I'm the young black Ralph Lauren
Every time I get out, they pull me right back in
The Michael Corleone of the microphone
The Michelangelo of flow I paint pictures with poems
I gather no moss like a rolling stone
Case the Grim Reaper visits my home, nigga I'm gone c'mon

(C'mon) It's the Roc
(C'mon) It's the Roc
(C'mon) It's the Roc
(C'mon) Let's rock
(C'mon)

Life is all about guns and roses
Bittersweet like friends and foes is
Some get left behind and some get chosen
Just like life, guns and roses

Life is all about Guns and Roses
Bittersweet like friends and foes is
Some get left behind and some get chosen
Just like life, guns and roses

Tote more guns then roses, foes is
Visibly shook of the invisible bully (let's go)
Flowers need water to grow, it gotta rain
And in order to experience joy you need pain
Every time a baby is born, somebody's slain
You know the saying, somebody's lose is another's gain
The sun comes out when the water goes down the drain
A rainbow, then the clouds come out we do it again
Everything evens up, you just wait
Even a garbage can gets a steak
You ain't even a garbage can you have faith
But when it turns your way before it turns away
Gotta turn that into something you gotta learn from Jay
You will get return in your investment if attention you pay, let's go

(C'mon) It's the Roc
(C'mon) It's the Roc
(C'mon) It's the Roc
(C'mon) Let's rock
(C'mon)

Life is all about guns and roses
Bittersweet like friends and foes is
Some get left behind and some get chosen
Just like life, guns and roses

Life is all about Guns and Roses
Bittersweet like friends and foes is
Some get left behind and some get chosen
Just like life, guns and roses

Life is all about Guns and Roses
Bittersweet like friends and foes is
Some get left behind and some get chosen
Just like life, guns and roses

Life is all about guns and roses
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: John McCrea, Shawn Carter, Dwight Meyers
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Stamen Music
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U Don't Know (Remix)

I'm not trying to be no big thing, no, no
You gotta let this one breathe, Just'
Just let it breathe for a second
I'm not trying to give you no advice
Yup! Hovi's home!
The newest addition to the Roc: M.O.P
I don't claim to be no philosopher
"The Blueprint 2" is on its way
I know y'all hear my footsteps out there! I'm coming!
But I sure know, this is life, baby, baby
Let's go get 'em, just!

Time to dump (Fiyah!), dump (Fiyah!)
Dump (Fiyah!), dump (Fiyah!)
Dump (Fiyah!)
You don't know
It's the M.O.P.! (Yes!)
What you're doing, doing, doing, doing

And the ZIP code is 1 (1), 2 (3), 3
And motherf*cker, we coming (Owwww!)
100 miles and gunning, I'm still running with cats that rob
From the era of eggshell 80s and hatchback Saabs (Same game!)
Operation for this industry lockdown
We still tote hammers that go Blakow! Run up if you wanna
Believe me dog, these hammers with they owners
F*ck your G up, have you in blue Pampers, in a coma
And your family now moan—look, seventy pounds gone
A little f*ck, shriveled up, with a hospital gown on
(We holding it down, homes!) Keep pushing, we fell bastards
To get over, we grind with slippery shell tactics
Chippety-frail bastards, your tracks need tune-ups
Lil' niglet, what the f*ck for you recording for? Nick Jr.?
(The game ain't changed!) It just got harder
Plus we sponsored by Laze, Dame Dash, and Mr. S-Dot Carter
Brownsville (Yep!), we stomp through this bitch all day (Oh)
Rock with my cock out, face the crowd, and piss off stage (Ugh, ugh, ugh)

I'm from the G side of things (Oh), where we ride and bang
With a heat that'll flame, that's how we got the name:
(Warriors!) Embedded in your brains
And someone should be telling 'em, the veterans have came
And we're better in the game, you better make it rain
(Twenty-seven a gram) My man, it's better than cocaine
Now, everything will change, and this Family will rule the world
And you haters can eat a dick up 'til you hiccup and earl!
A decade on the grind (Ugh), nigga, I paid mine
So it's my time to shine and for you to ride the pine
I won't sit back and rap like these dumb-ass kids
I been around, I put it down, I ain't these young-ass kids (M.O.P.!)
The OGs repped and survived around this motherf*cker
(First family!) We kept it live around this motherf*cker (Oh!)
When it's crunch time, we do it our wizzay
Fo' shizzle, my nigga, learned to grip pistols in BK

Woooooo!
Turn my music high, high, high, high-er

More fire, more Rocawear attire
More money, more murder, now that M.O.P.'s hired
More further for the Roc empire, y'all won't serve us
Y'all nervous, know them guns on full service, ready to fire
One body, two body, three body, four
Young sitting on paper, I'm above the law
Young shitting on haters, I ain't f*cking with y'all
For my Brownsville neighbor—"How About Some Hardcore?"
And it just get worser every time I sign my signature in cursive
Just add another million to these verses
One million, two million, three million, four
And the money's really worthless, I'm pissing you off on purpose
My nephews situated, and my mama is straight
So I'm ready for whatever drama should come my way
And you niggas rapping to me, so your drama is fake
You dudes is noodles, I got more ziti to bake
You dudes is cake, I keep two biscuits on the waist
Razor blades under the tongue, I will eat your face
Appetite for destruction, I am starving today
Got a money-hungry lawyer that'll eat the case
And that's just food for thought, don't let it go to waste
Nigga, bite the bullet until you stuffing your face, ha!
I done forgot more than you ever learned
What you don't know'll make your home a permanent urn, nigga!

Do you believe it?
Oh, no
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
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Meet The Parents

Woo!
It's "The gift and the curse"
Yea
First they love me then they hate me then they love me again
They love me again
Let's take a trip down, I gotcha

Let's take a trip down memory, lane at the cemetery
Rain gray skies, seems at the end of every
Young black life is this line, "Damn, him already?
Such a good kid," got us pouring Henn' already
Liquor to the curb for my, niggas up above
When it, cracks through the pavement that's my way of sending love
So, give Big a hug, tell Aaliyah I said hi
Till the next time I see her, on the other side
He was just some thug that, caught some slugs
And we loved him cause, in him we, saw some of us
He walked like us, talked like us
His back against the wall, nigga fought like us, damn
Poor Isis, that's his momma name
Momma ain't strong enough to raise no boy, what's his father name?
Shorty never knew him, though he had his blood in him
Hot temper, momma said he act just like her husband
Daddy never f*cked with him, so the streets raised him
Isis blaming herself, she wish she could of saved him
Damn near impossible, only men can raise men
He was his own man, not even him can save him
He put his faith in her, thirty-eight in his waist
But when you live by the gun you die by the same fate
End up, dead before thirty-eight and umm
That's the life of us raised by winter, it's a cold world
Old girl turned to coke, tried to smoke her pain away
Isis, life just, ended on that rainy day
When she got the news her boy body could be viewed
Down at the City Morgue, opened the drawer, saw him nude
Her addiction grew, prescription drugs, shift and brew
Angel dust, dipped in WOO!
She slipped into, her own fantasy world
Had herself pregnant by a different dude
But reality bites and, this is her life
He wasn't really her husband, though he called her wife
It was just this night when, moon was full
And the stars were just right, and the dress was real tight
Had her sounding like Lisa Lisa, I wonder if I take you home
Will you still love me after this night?
Mike was the hard head from the around the way
That she wanted all her life, shit she wanted all the hype
Used to hold on tight when he wheelied on the bike
He was a Willie all her life he wasn't really the one to like
It was a, dude named Shy who would really treat her right
He wanted to run to the country to escape the city life
But I-sis, like this, Broadway life
She loved the Gucci sneakers, the red green and whites
Hanging out the window when she first seen him fight
She was so turned on that she had to shower twice
How ironic it would, be some fight that
Turned into a homicide that'll alter their life
See Mike at thirty-two was still on the scene
Had a son fifteen that he never saw twice
Sure he saw him as an infant, but he dissed on him like
"If that was my son, he would look much different.
See I'm light-skinnded and that baby there's dark
So it's, momma's baby, poppa's maybe."
Mike was still crazy out there running the streets (f*ck niggas want?)
Had an older but light with thirty-eight gun in his reach
It's been fourteen years, him and Isis ain't speak
He running around like life's a peach, 'til one day
He approached this thug that, had a mean mug
And it looked so familiar that he called him "Young Cuz"
Told him, get off the strip but the boy ain't budge (f*ck you)
Instead he pulled out a newer thirty-eight snub
He clearly had the drop but the boy just paused (hold up)
There was something in this man's face he knew he seen before
It's like, looking in the mirror seeing his self more mature
And he took it as a sign from the almighty Lord
You know what they say about he who hesitates in war
(What's that?) He who hesitates is lost
He can't explain what he saw before his picture went blank
The old man didn't think he just followed his instinct
Six shots into his kid, out of the gun
Niggas be a father, you're killing your son
Six shots into his kid, out of the gun
Niggas be a father, you killing your sons

(Meet the parents)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SHAWN CARTER, SHAWN C CARTER, JUSTIN GREGORY SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
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Some How Some Way

[Chorus]
(Please believe that) Some how some way
We gotta make it up out the hood some day
Some how some way
We gotta make it up out this life
Some how some way
We gotta make it up out this life
Some way we gotta make it up out this life

[Jay-Z]
Weather we dribble out this motherf*cker
Rap metaphors and riddle out this motherf*cker
Work second floors, hospital out this motherf*cker
Some how we gotta get up out this motherf*cker
Some day the cops will kill a motherf*cker
I don't always want to be this drug dealing
Motherf*cker damn
Wish I could take us all on this magic carpet ride
Through the sky I
Use to play the hall up fifth floor me and my boys we
All poor getting high I
seen the worst of the worst I deserve every blessing
I received I'm from the dirt
I planted my seed on unfertile land Myrtle Park
Marcy, Flushing and Nostrand and
Still I grew some how I knew the sun will shine through
And touch my soul take hold of my hand
Look man a tree grows in Brooklyn

[Chorus]
Some how some way
I gotta make it up out the hood someday
Some how some way
I gotta make it up out this life
Some way I gotta make it up out this hood someday

[Beanie Sigel]
[Talking:] To old Nell, Sigel street I ain't forget you

Twenty niggas on the block trying to chase that buck
Nosey neighbors and haters keep their face on stuck
Cops roll up on the pavement break the dice games up
Behind smoke kids can't chase the ice cream truck
Girls fighting over Rollie young boys hype things up
Niggas fighting over Cold young boys light things up
All the petty ass wars f*ck the night scene up
Remember Lil' Eddie man how he light mean up
Then they wonder why we light green up
Back to back steamers trying to relax but I can't
I lean up ain't the L or the refer that steam up
It's my head stress to the point I get a fever
Thinking bout the block and all the mothers and kids
That can't leave and how the Chinks gotta feed'em
For the rest of their life f*cking wings fried
Vegetable rice(gotta be kidding)
No breakfast Cap'n Crunch at night
Our kids eating lunch at night
In their beds all bunched in tight
No less than three or four(you know how it go)
Two by the foot two by the headboard
Man I'm getting scared for them (Yeah I know)
Thats how I feel for them
And we gotta grip the shorties on the block
All they do is smoke weed and drink forties
Cop their quarties
Enough to get the latest ROC, newest glock, and old Jordies

[Chorus]
Some how some way
We gonna make it up out the hood someday
Some how some way
We gonna make it up out this life
Some how some way
We gonna make it up out the hood one day
Some way we gonna make it up out this life

[Scarface]
Right here another lil' story bout this click I claimed
Another chapter based on how I get that game
Hanging round my neighborhood and bang my street
Sit and watch the passer-bys play my sweep
South-side sunny side
Blocks I run South Vegas, South Paul
Nigga all got guns
Over here we got this poor (?) get that there
We know tomorrow ain't promise so we get that there
F*ck sitting in the living room guarding the steps
Working inside a slump house starving to death
Serving these nigga flippers, quarter-ounces and
Zippers agents snapping your picture neighbors
Plotting to get ya
Situations is critic I was out here to get it
Living it like a savage cause nigga I gotta have it
And holding back all the mothers for a minute
Pumping hard dog
Erase enough to walk it down and f*ck it all dog
Love being willied and your creek gonna rise
I'm be a nigga and these streets gonna rise
(Some how some way)
(Some how some way)
I'm be a nigga and these streets gonna rise

[Chorus]
Some how some way
We gotta make it up out the hood some day
Some how some way
We gotta make it up out this life
Some how some way
We gotta make it up out the hood some day
Some way we gotta make it up out this life

[Whistling]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SHAWN CARTER, SHAWN C CARTER, DWIGHT GRANT, BRAD JORDAN, MICHAEL MC GLOIRY
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
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The Bounce

Uhh, just point out the bounce
Uh-huh, show me the bounce, yeah
Just point out the bounce, yeah
Timbo the king, yeah
Young Hov' the king, yeah
Just point out the bounce..
Yes, just point out the bounce nigga
Yo, listen

[Jay-Z]
Rumor has it "The Blueprint" classic
Couldn't even be stopped by Bin Laden
So September 11th marks the era forever
of a revolutionary Che Gueverra
Now it's a whole museum of, Hov' MCers
Everybody dupin the flow, you see 'em
Everybody loopin up soul
It's like you tryin to make "The Blueprint 2" before Hov'
Shout out to Just Bleezy and, Kan-yeezy
See how we adjusted the game so easy
Chicks barely dancin, glancin every chance they get
Like - oh shit, he's so handsome
Still in demand in the longest run standin
Kidnap rap seven years, no ransom
Can't one nigga get it back no rap
Young Hov's goin to Canton, I'm now eligible

[Chorus]
Point out the bounce - and show you how to get this dough in
large amounts 'til it's hard to count
Point out the bounce - I turn a 8 to an ounce
to a whole ki to the R.O.C.
Point out the bounce - Timbo the king nigga
Uhh, yeah, uhh
Point out the bounce - jeah, Young Hov' the king nigga

Uhh, I got y'all..

[Jay-Z]
For those that think Hov' fingers bling bling'n
Either haven't heard the album or they don't know english
They only know what the single is, and singled that out
to be the meaning of what he is about
And bein I'm about my business, not minglin much
runnin my mouth, that shit kept lingerin
But no dummy, that's the shit I'm sprinklin
The album width to keep the registers ringin
In real life, I'm much more distinguished
I'm like a bloke from London, England
Jeah, you jinglin baby
See I go right back and I bring 'em in baby
Business mind of a Ross Perot, but never lost my soul
Crossed the line, I bought pop across the row
Then I walk through the hood, where they up to no good
Slangin them O's like a real O.G. should
Oh, he's good, no he would never sell out he's so young

[Chorus]

[Kanye West]
Magazines call me a rock star, girls call me cock star
Billboard, pop star, neighborhood block star
Chi-Town go-gettin pimps, we mobsters
Gingerbread Man even said, "You're a monster!"
Yeah, that's how I feel
To be down, you must appeal
To the crew, we're rated R
O.C., O.G., Bobby Johnson son
Ask me, "Rey-Rey, is that yo' car?"
I seen MTV, I know who you are
You did "Takeover," do you got beef with Nas?
I did take over the game, brought back the soul
Got tracks to go, got plaques that's gold
Platinum to go, yeah that's the flow
All I, know, I gots the flow
And I don't play cause I'm from Chicago

[Chorus]

Point out the bounce [repeat 5X]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: MELISSA A. ELLIOTT, TIMOTHY Z. MOSLEY, SYLVESTER JR. JORDAN, JUSTIN R. TIMBERLAKE, TIMOTHY CLAYTON, BILL PETTAWAY, SHAWN CARTER, TIM MOSLEY
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BILLEY PETTAWAY MUSIC
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What They Gonna Do Part II

Oh yeah, uh oh
Y'all know who it is (he's back)

If you with me, throw the diamond up one time
Ladies, if you with me, just grind to the bass line
Niggas, don't be scared to grab her from behind
And make her show out her wild side, stick out her backside

Now what the f*ck they gon' do with me
Got money, got broads, got a crew with me
Real as banana clips, I got a Sue with me
Get down or lay down nigga to shoot with me
Now how the f*ck they gon' deal with me
I ain't going nowhere, they gotta deal with me
Got the whole BK ready to kill with me
You scared motherf*cker, keep it real with me, keep it real with me
Now what the f*ck they gon say to me
Got to clap, yi mean all day with me, CLAP, yi mean
Don't play with me, clap, yi mean
Stay with me, don't lose me y'all
And please don't confuse me with dog, I'm different
I bought it back for a living
33 O's on a bitch back like Pippen
3 She can keep for herself and distribute
36 O's and a ki, you do the addition
Before Mitchell and Ness did it
I was moving birds like a Oriole fitted
I'm Cal Ripken Jr. let's get it

[Chorus]

Hon' what they gon' say to you
Got your hair did and your favorite shoes
Tell 'em don't play with you, get 'em away from you
You need a baller like I, call 'em like I
See 'em like na
Move over y'all amateurs
No, you not balling that's Pro-Am shit
Oh, stop calling that's hoe-man shit
Stop falling asleep that's old man shit
I stands up in it like a champ up in it
Be up in it so long, get my calls transferred in it
No more minute man in it
Get my Soundscan, B-D-S, and Market and Glance in it

[Chorus]

What they gon do'
You got starch in your flow
I flow too many ways, got a arch in my flow
All sorts of flow, Rembrandt, Rilkey
I am art with the flow
Even if I'm filthy, you gotta pardon the flow
Niggas taking it lightly, had to darken the flow
Way I put it together, tear 'em apart with the flow
I'm too smart with the flow, you just started the flow
Stop it youngin', you 106th & Park with the flow
I am pro, as you see I'm off the charts with the flow
Actually I'm number one on the charts with the flow
In some places they say this, I am God with the flow
Like my office, but they're biased, too involved with the flow
(Oh no) I am the youth spirit, I am y'all with the flow
Troubled man, dare I say, I am Mar with the flow
I come up hard but I evolve with the flow
Crossover, slam dunk, Rucker Park with the flow

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DARRELL BRANCH, DAVID PORTER, SHAWN CARTER, SHAWN C CARTER
Copyright: Lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing
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La-La-La (Excuse Me Miss Again)

You can't roll a blunt to this one
You gotta, you gotta well, ya gotta light a J
You gotta puff a J on this one
You can't even drink Crist-owl on this one
You gotta drink Crist-all
Buy some red wine, a little Gocha

You're so contagious, I can't take it have my baby, let's just make it
Excuse me, what's your name?
Can I get my grown man on for one second?
Cause I see some ladies tonight that should be hanging wit' Jay-Z, Jay-Z

Lady, excuse me miss, what's your name?
Can you come, hang with me?
Possibly, can I take you out, tonight

You already know what it's hitting for
Ma I got whatever outside and you know what I'm sitting on
Fifty fifty venture with them S dots kicking off
Armadale popping now, only bring a nigga more
Only thing missing is a Missus
You ain't even gotta do the dishes, got two dishwashers
Got one chef, one maid, all I need is a partner
To play spades with the cards up, all trust
Who else you goin' run with, the truth is us
Only dudes moving units, 'em, Pimp Juice and us
It's the Roc in here!
Maybach outside gots rocks in air
PJ's on the runway, Young got air
I don't land at a airport, I call it the clear port
Therefore, I don't wanna hear more
Back and forth about who's hot as Young, holla!

Excuse me, damn!
You're so contagious, I can't take it have my baby, let's just make it
Lady (You gotta puff a J to this one
Can't roll a blunt up to this one boy)
You're so contagious, I can't take it have my baby, let's just make it
Excuse me, what's your name?
Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be rolling with Jay-Z, Jay-Z
Lady! What's your name?
Cause I see some ladies tonight
That should be rolling with Jay-Z, Jay-Z

Everybody's like, "He's no item! Please don't like him.
He don't wife 'em, he one nights 'em!"
Now she don't like him, she never met him
Groupies try to take advantage of him, he won't let 'em
He don't need 'em, so he treats 'em like he treats 'em
Better them than me, she don't agree with him
She's mad at that, he's not having that
So those opposites attract like mag-a-nets
She sees more than the Benz wagon, the friends taggin' along
With a flashy nigga bragging on the song
She gets a glimpse of Shawn and she likes that
He 2-ways her, so she writes back
Smiley faces after all of her phrases
Either she the one or I'm caught in "The Matrix"
But f*ck it, let the Fish-burne
Red or green pill, you live and you learn, c'mon!

Excuse me, damn! (You gotta throw on your fine linens for this one)
You're so contagious, I can't take it have my baby, let's just make it
Lady (Gotta throw on ya Scooby Doo's, those are shoes by the way)
You're so contagious, I can't take it have my baby, let's just make it
Excuse me, what's your name?
For the grown and sexy, only for the grown and sexy
Lady! What's your name?
So foxy girl, you're so hot to trot

Love let's go half on a son, I know my past ain't one
You can easily get past, but that chapter is done
But I'm done reading for now
Remember spades face up, you can believe him for now
But ma you got a for real f'serious role
I'm bout to give you all the keys and security codes
'Bout to show you where the cheese, let you know I ain't playing
But, before I jump out the window, what's your name?

Excuse me, damn!
You're so contagious, I can't take it have my baby, let's just make it
Lady, you're so contagious, I can't take it have my baby, let's just make it
Excuse me, what's your name?
So foxy girl, so hot to trot,
Lady! What's your name?
You're so foxy girl, you're so hot to trot
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SYRIX, DELMARK ST AUBYN SPENCE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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Stop

[Intro: Swizz Beats]
Swizzy...Beats...

[Chorus]
Aiyo I cannot (Stop), I will not (Stop)
AS WE PROCEED

[Verse 1]
Young Hov got the block on smash
Put the gun to the back and hop on some ass
Nigga fresh-dressed and stay poppin' tags
Put the (?) on the truck 'for I drop the rag
Bitches want to bring up the topic of my past
It's legendary in the hood how I got my cash
I'm legendady in the hood so I got the mag
And I've never been a fronter so I've got to blast
Will I flash... Not...
As I'm not playing with you motherf*ckers the casket drops
You bastards not gon' assassinate the name I got
Ya'll hear me though
Young Hov got the block on smash
And everybody and their momma want to stop my cash
Everybody want drama with the top of the brass
'Til I come through hop out the cab
1-8-7 they ass

[Bridge]
(Stop) Somebody 'gon (Drop) Ya'll hear me though...

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
Young Hov got the game in a frenzy
Twenty million sold all independently
So when you mention me
Make sure you got together your 'semblies
Like "he's the games J.F.Kennedy"
I started out I ain't have no chimney
My ma was Santa Claus, well at least she pretended to be
'Til one night, well that's if memory serves me correct I caught her under
the Christmas tree
Young Hov ain't have no pops
Thank God man I had the block
Ya'll hear me though
You young f*cks got the game all wrong
This is my life man this ain't no song
You ain't livin' your rhymes out, you live at your mom's house
In that tight-ass room, pullin' the cars out
And the mirror pointin' at your reflection, killing yourself
You American Pie, stop feeling yourself
Nigga, you just a worker, go deal yourself
Stop being a server, get a meal yourself
Where your heart at, all that yick-yack, ain't nobody scared of your gats
We got bigger ones
How many niggas done shot at me shivering
They were so scared they ain't hit me once
Young Hov 'bout to go to the range
'Bout to work on perfecting my aim
Ya'll dont hear me though

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SAMUEL J BARNES, SHAWN CARTER, SHAWN C CARTER, ROBERT S KELLY, INGA D MARCHAND, JEAN CLAUDE OLIVIER
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
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Beware of the Boys (Jay-Z Remix)

Uh, uh, It's the Roc in the building
Khaliq (Wussup), Ramel (Wussup), Pharrell in the house
ਨੀਵਿਆਂ ਤੂੰ ਕੁੱਝ ਚਿਰ ਪਾ ਕੇ ਰੱਖ ਲੈ
ਪੱਲੇ ਵਿੱਚ ਮੁੱਖੜਾ ਲੁਕਾ ਕੇ ਰੱਖ ਲੈ (Yes, Live from United States)
Brooklyn New York it's ya boy, Young
ਨੀਵਿਆਂ ਤੂੰ ਕੁੱਝ ਚਿਰ ਪਾ ਕੇ ਰੱਖ ਲੈ
ਪੱਲੇ ਵਿੱਚ ਮੁੱਖੜਾ ਲੁਕਾ ਕੇ ਰੱਖ ਲੈ (The Neptunes is in the house)
ਐਵੇਂ ਕਰੀਂ ਨਾ ਕਿਸੇ ਦੇ ਨਾਲ ਪਿਆਰ
ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਬਚ ਕੇ ਰਹੀਂ

Soon as the beat drop we got the streets locked
Overseas with Punjabi MC and the Roc
I came to see the mamis in the spot
On the count of three drop your body like it's hot
1, Young, 2, you,1,2, 3
Young Hov's a snake charmer, move your body like a snake mama
Make me wanna put the snake on ya
I'm on my 8th summer, still hot Young's the 8th wonder
All I do is get bread, yeah I take wonder
I take one of your chics straight from under your armpit
The black Brad Pitt, I mack 'til six in the AM
All day I'm P-I-M-P, I am simply
Attached to the track like symphony
It's simply good

ਕਰੀਂ ਨਾ ਕਿਸੇ ਦੇ ਨਾਲ ਪਿਆਰ (Young Hov, infinitely hood)
ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਬਚ ਕੇ ਰਹੀਂ
ਨੀ ਤੂੰ ਹੁਣੇ-ਹੁਣੇ ਹੋਈ ਮੁਟਿਆਰ
ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਬਚ ਕੇ ਰਹੀਂ
ਨੀ ਤੂੰ ਹੁਣੇ-ਹੁਣੇ ਹੋਈ ਮੁਟਿਆਰ
ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਬਚ ਕੇ ਰਹੀਂ, ਓਏ

R.O.C, and you don't stop
Punjabi MC, and you don't stop
N**** NYC and we don't stop
It's the R.O.C, it's the R.O.C

ਤੇਰਾ ਕੀ ਕਸੂਰ ਜੇ ਨਸ਼ੀਲੇ ਨੈਨ ਹੋ ਗਏ (yes)
ਸਿਖ ਕੇ ਅਦਾਵਾਂ ਸ਼ਰਮੀਲੇ ਨੈਨ ਹੋ ਗਏ

ਤੇਰਾ ਕੀ ਕਸੂਰ ਜੇ ਨਸ਼ੀਲੇ ਨੈਨ ਹੋ ਗਏ
ਸਿਖ ਕੇ ਅਦਾਵਾਂ ਸ਼ਰਮੀਲੇ ਨੈਨ ਹੋ ਗਏ
ਸਾਂਭ ਕੇ ਰੱਖਨੀ ਐ ਜੋਬਨ ਪਿਟਾਰੀ
ਸਾਂਭ ਕੇ ਰੱਖਨੀ ਐ ਜੋਬਨ ਪਿਟਾਰੀ
ਮੁੜ-ਮੁੜ ਕੇ ਨਹੀਂ ਆਉਣੀ ਐ ਬਹਾਰ (yes)

Ma, I ain't gotta tell you but it's ya boy Hov (ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਬਚ ਕੇ ਰਹੀਂ)
From the U.S., you just, lay down slow
Catch ya boy minglin' in England, nettlin' in the Netherlands
Checkin' in daily under aliases
We rebellious, we back home, screamin' leave Iraq alone
But all my soldiers in the field, I will wish you safe return
But only love kills war when will they learn
It's international Hov, I been havin' the flow
Before Bin Laden got Manhattan to blow
Before Ronald Reagan got Manhattan to blow
Before I was cappin' it then back before
Before we had it all day, poppin' in the hallway
Cop one offa someone to give you more yey
Yea, but that's another stor-ay
But for now, mami, turn it around 9(ਗੋਰਾ-ਗੋਰਾ ਰੰਗ )
And let the boy play (ਉਤੋਂ ਮਿਰਗਾਂ ਜਿਹੀ ਤੋਰ)

ਨਾ ਹੀ ਤੇਰੇ ਜਿਹੀ ਸੋਹਣੀ ਕੋਈ ਨਾਰ
ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਬਚ ਕੇ ਰਹੀਂ (Jay)
ਨੀ ਤੂੰ ਹੁਣੇ-ਹੁਣੇ ਹੋਈ ਮੁਟਿਆਰ (R.O.C, and you don't stop)
ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਬਚ ਕੇ ਰਹੀਂ (Punjabi MC, and you don't stop)
ਨੀ ਤੂੰ ਹੁਣੇ-ਹੁਣੇ ਹੋਈ ਮੁਟਿਆਰ (n**** NYC and we don't stop)
ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਬਚ ਕੇ ਰਹੀਂ, ਓਏ (It's the R.O.C, it's the R.O.C)

R.O.C, and you don't stop
Punjabi MC, and you don't stop
N**** NYC and we don't stop
It's the Roc, we don't stop
Aha
Yes, bounce, bounce, bounce

ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਦੇ ਬੁੱਲ੍ਹਾਂ ਉਤੇ ਤੇਰੀਆਂ ਕਹਾਣੀਆਂ
ਚੰਨੀ ਨੇ ਤਾਂ ਖੰਨੇ ਦੀਆਂ ਗਲ਼ੀਆਂ ਵੀ ਛਾਣੀਆਂ

ਚੋਬਰਾਂ ਦੇ ਬੁੱਲ੍ਹਾਂ ਉਤੇ ਤੇਰੀਆਂ ਕਹਾਣੀਆਂ
ਚੰਨੀ ਨੇ ਤਾਂ ਖੰਨੇ ਦੀਆਂ ਗਲ਼ੀਆਂ ਵੀ ਛਾਣੀਆਂ
ਜੰਜੂਆ ਤਾਂ ਹੋਇਆ ਤੇਰੇ ਰੂਪ ਦਾ ਦੀਵਾਨਾ
ਜੰਜੂਆ ਤਾਂ ਹੋਇਆ ਤੇਰੇ ਰੂਪ ਦਾ ਦੀਵਾਨਾ
ਝੱਲ ਸੱਕਿਆ ਨਾ ਹੁਸਨ ਦਾ ਵਾਰ
ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਬਚ ਕੇ ਰਹੀਂ
ਨੀ ਤੂੰ ਹੁਣੇ-ਹੁਣੇ ਹੋਈ ਮੁਟਿਆਰ
ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਬਚ ਕੇ ਰਹੀਂ
ਨੀ ਤੂੰ ਹੁਣੇ-ਹੁਣੇ ਹੋਈ ਮੁਟਿਆਰ
ਮੁੰਡਿਆਂ ਤੋਂ ਬਚ ਕੇ ਰਹੀਂ, ਓਏ

ਹੋਏ ਹੋਏ ਹੋਏ ਹੋਏ ਹੋਏ
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Glen Larson, Rajinder Rai, Stuart Phillips
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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Blueprint2

"JAY-Z this," "JAY-Z that"
("JAY-Z won't hold my hand no more")
"JAY-Z this," "JAY-Z that"
"JAY-Z that," "JAY-Z this"
Get off JAY-Z' dick!
("JAY-Z won't give me no money")
What, y'all niggas get front page articles?
Y'all mention JAY-Z name?
(This thing on?) JAY-Z, JAY-Z
In JAY-Z news (Check)
I understand what y'all tryin' to do
I brought the flutes this time, though (Check)
Unleash the flutes on 'em, Guru
Give me some more music in the headphone
Let's get to the proceedings preceding this evening
Let's do this thing (let's do it right this time)
C'mon!

H, O, V, A, I got my mojo back, baby, oh behave
Naw, naw, don't be afraid, y'all and your articles hock spit at Jay
Y'all from afar threw darts my way
What you thought, I would not have nothin' to say? Nope!
Y'all fell into the booby trap
I set the trap just to see dude react
And now, and now you's can't leave
You opened the door, God, I'm at you annually
And I'm sorry Miss Rosie Perez
I call a spade a spade, it just is what it is
But you can't give cred to anything dude says
Same dude to give you ice and you owe him some head
Shorty, it's time to wake up the dead
You sound a little naive in them articles that I read

H, O, V, A, The Blueprint 2, baby, on the way
H, O, V, A, I got my mojo back, baby, oh behave
H, O, V, A, The Blueprint 2, baby, on the way
H, O, V, A, I got my mojo back, baby, oh behave

Can't y'all see that he's fake, the rap version of T.D. Jakes
Prophesizin' on your CD's and tapes
Won't break you a crumb of the little bit that he makes
And this is with whom you want to place your faith
I put dollars on mine, ask Columbine
When the Twin Towers dropped, I was the first in line
Donatin' proceeds off every ticket sold
When I was out on the road, that's how you judge Hov, no?
Ain't I supposed to be absorbed in myself?
Every time there's a tragedy, I'm the first one to help
They call me this misogynist, but they don't call me the dude
To take his dollars to give gifts at the projects
These dudes is all politics, depositin' checks
They put in they pocket, all you get in return is a lot of lip
And y'all buy the shit, caught up in the hype
'Cause the nigga wear a kufi, it don't mean that he bright
'Cause you don't understand him, it don't mean that he nice
It just means you don't understand all the bullshit that he write
Is it Oochie Wally Wally or is it One Mic?
Is it Black Girl Lost or shorty owe you for ice?
I've been real all my life, they confuse it with conceit
Since I will not lose, they try to help him cheat
But I will not lose, for even in defeat
There's a valuable lesson learned, so it evens up for me
When the grass is cut, the snakes will show
I gotta thank the little homie Nas for that though
Savin' me the hassle of speakin' to half of these assholes
And I'ma let karma catch up to Jaz-O, whoa
I'm back before you had a chance to miss me
My mama can't save you this time, niggas is history
Who you know flow vicious as me?
Yet so religiously, that's why they call me Hov'
I get the spoils 'cause the victor is me (Me, nigga!)
You're an actor, you're not who you're depicted to be
You street dreamin', all y'all niggas livin' through me
I gave you life when niggas was forgettin' you emcee
I'm a legend, you should take a picture with me
You should be happy to be in my presence
I should charge you a fee
I'm Big Dog, Glenn Rob, listen, God, you a flea
And the little homie Jungle is a garden to me
What's the problem, B? You not as hard as me, nigga
Hard as we, nigga, R-O-C, nigga
That's why they follow me, they feel my pain and my agony, nigga
I won't rest 'til you on one knee
You want war, then this war's gon' be, nigga
Until you on one knee
You want war, then this war's gon' be, nigga

H, O, V, A,, The Blueprint 2, baby, on the way
H, O, V, A, I got my mojo back, baby, oh behave
H, O, V, A, The Blueprint 2, baby, on the way
H, O, V, A, I got my mojo back, baby, oh behave
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ennio Morricone, Henri Charlemagne, Shawn Carter
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave
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Bitches & Sisters

Let's describe a certain female
Let's describe a certain female
Let's describe a certain female

(Bitch) you know my name and the company I own
(Bitch) you like my style and you smell my cologne
(Bitch) don't try to act like my track record ain't known
(Bitch) you probably gotta couple CDs in your home
(Bitch) don't make me say it twice, you acting all up tight
All sidity like, like, like you ain't a (Bitch)
I ain't no ball player, you ain't gonna get pregnant and get
Hit off with paper, you gonna get hit off and slid off
Before the neighbors take off to go to work
So just, take off your shirt, don't hit me with that church shit
(Bitch) I got a sister who schooled me to shit you chickens do
Tricking fools, got a whole Robin Givens crew that I kick it to
They be hipping dudes, how you chickens move, I be listening too
(Bitch, bitch, bitch)
Don't make me say it thrice, you acting all up tight
All sidity like, like you ain't a (Bitch)
You ain't no better cause you don't be f*cking rappers
You only f*ck with actors, you still getting f*cked backwards
(Bitch) Unless you f*cked a dude on his own merit
And not the way he dribbles or ball or draw lyrics
You're a (Bitch), no ma, you're a (Bitch)

Let's describe a certain female
Let's describe a certain female
Let's describe a certain female

Say Jay-Z, why you gotta go and disrespect the women for, huh?

(Bitch) Sisters get respect, bitches get what they deserve
Sisters work hard, bitches work your nerves
Sisters hold you down, bitches hold you up
Sisters help you progress, bitches will slow you up
Sisters cook up a meal, play their role with the kids
Bitches in street with their nose in your biz
Sisters tell the truth, bitches tell lies
Sisters drive cars, bitches wanna ride
Sisters give-up the ass, bitches give-up the ass
Sisters do it slow, bitches do it fast
Sisters do their dirt outside of where they live
Bitches have niggas all up in your crib
Sisters tell you quick "you better check your homie"
Bitches don't give a f*ck, they wanna check for your homie
Sisters love Jay 'cause they know how Hov' is
I love my sisters, I don't love no bitch
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
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Back to: Jay-Z


The Blueprint 2: The Gift & the Curse (stylized as The Blueprint²: The Gift & the Curse) is the seventh studio album by American rapper Jay-Z. A double album, it was released on November 12, 2002, by Roc-A-Fella Records and Island Def Jam Music Group. The album serves as a sequel to his sixth album The Blueprint (2001).

he album debuted at number one, shipping with first-week sales of 545,000 units. The album is certified 3x Multi-Platinum by the RIAA. In 2013, Jay-Z cited this album as his second-worst due to an overabundance of songs on the album. A one-disc reissue, titled Blueprint 2.1, was released in 2003.
Genre(s): Hip hop
Length: 108:24
Released: November 12th, 2002
Year: 2002

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