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Jay-Z - Bring It On lyrics
[Sauce Money] Aiyyo Jay word up; these motherfuckers Fuckin talkin that comeback shit like they cookin crack Shit I ain't frontin all I want my pockets green like slum change Yaknahmsayin? Front the roll we roll back like rubbers motherfucker For real; with no trace of AIDS We keep our pockets fully blown, Roc-A-Fella click nigga Aiyyo we pattin down pussy from Sugarhill to the Shark Bar Fuck a bitch D in the marked car We got the bad bitches gaspin for air in Aspen Searchin for aspirin when I ask then, we swing You cling we do our thing and bring Sling your ding-a-ling from Bed-Stuy Brooklyn to Beijing East coast hostess hostile colossal, money flarin like nostrils for drug dealin apostles, huh Al Pacino down to Nino Brown Me Jay and Primo, got it sewed across the board like poquino Teflon, make sure your jammy is full Cause I heard, Sammy the Bull lamps in Miami with pull Tropical leaves where I got a few keys with my man I'll stock a few G's, now it's unstoppable cheese Said we was garbage, so fuck college Street knowledge amazin to scholars when we coin phrases for dollars Star studded bitches with cristals, get fucked with pistols just to see my shit, discharge puss I drop the stellar, even acapella I got to tell all about Roc-A-Fella Chorus: Fat Joe Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang And if not then let me do my thang (repeat 4X) [Jay-Z] Mannerisms of a young Bobby DeNiro, spent spanish wisdoms in a whip with dinero, crime organized like the pharoah I cream, I diamond gleam High post like Akiem, got a lot of things to drop Brooklyn to Queens, I gotta keep my steam Niggaz wanna try to hem my long jeans Uptown fiend for Jay-Z to appear on the scene In the meanwhile, here's somethin dope for y'all to lean Liason for days on in Money make the world go around so I made songs to spin Can I Live, did dough, with my nigs, dividends flow like the Mississippi riv', lookin jig' Can't do for dolo, had to turn away when Tony killed Manolo That's real, mixed feelings like a mulatto Thug thought he was O.G. Bobby Johnson I played him like Benny Blanco, mano a mano you ain't ready, I find no trigger straight up shoot my guns horizontal, get your weight up, I am two point two pounds you're barely a hundred and twenty-five grams Wouldn't expect y'all to understand this money Do the knowledge, do the few dollars, I'm due to demolish Crews Brooklyn through Hollis to a hood near you, what the fuck... ("Bring it on if you think you can hang..." --> Fat Joe) [Big Jaz] Money is power I'm into cheddick with facial credit Pure platinum fetish for cheddars Spread letters you move you're deadish I make moves that remove pebbles out of shoes You suck pistol like pipe with the cristal John Stockton couldn't assist you Cowboys or Benzes like we foulin in the U.N. So what the fuck you doin? Whatever nigga Fahrvegnugen, rugged yet polished Spankin dollars with the commas bangin bitches out the Bahamas On hides of llama we cry nada, fly frather Fry hotter, you die gotta Fuck with me witness manana Absence of malice in my palace Call cousin now Dallas trigger finger with the callous Tip scales from mail to keep these niggaz off balance Your frequent stops to O.T.B. you feedin me Steam a nigga schemin on the wrist action with the gleams Jewels for Pop Duke fulfill your dreams Never put the pure brown sugar before the dirty green cream Chorus "Yeah, bring it on... bring it on..." --> Fat Joe (repeat 5X) |
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