Tekst piosenki
Yeah y'all this Jay-Z, coolin out with the Funk Flex 60 Minutes of Funk, volume two, how we do Motherfucker... yeah you don't stop You won't quit, Jay-Z drop shit like this Aiyyo, my records sell cause I was born to do it Kick that Willie shit well, cause I'm really gonna do it The voice of the hustlers, who else gon do it? Most niggas is locked or in the box with embalming fluid That's how I get it locked when I come through in the V You rap niggas on the radio don't do it for me Insert the removable face, place the CD Your Prince, cause you rap dudes don't make sense Talk about bitten lines Nigga I did ery bit of crime that I writ in mine Ran so much coke, I could shit a dime And this is way back when, way before your bullshit was signed Tryin to indirectly, effect me, directly Careful what you wish for, Jigga get raw Nigga I'm straight gutta, let me remind you Act like you, out of your mind, I put your mind out of you I do anything when I put my mind to it A whole lot more when I put the nine to it I flow shit blow shit smash shit tow shit On some sho' shit hose it down totally and you knows this man Keep niggas in awe with the old shit No shit, and I don't give a fuck who you go get I fold shit like poker, smack em around On some Joe Schmoe shit, I back your whole click down what? Frito Lay rappers I slay for play, tell me Who in your circle could fuck around with Jay? No mo' shit, Cristals get dough shit Shoot my pistals on the reg, I'm on some double-fo' shit Bout to drop a jewel and make po-po sick I only the respect feds, beat cops know shit I'm pro slick, the dopest nigga to your brain, the comatose shit Cause after all, what's my name, oh shit! Yeah Funk Flex and uh, we don't stop Y'all wanna rhyme like me, wanna dime like me Every Tom, Dick and Harry wanna ride my mami Drink Cristal, play diamonds in his wristal Sell fish scale, y'all niggas love this style Wannabe players, Jay-Z's offic-ial Been through out, I could tell you what to do and how to do it Foundation is layed, we can take this to the top babygirl If you're not afraid, the world is watchin Most certainly, clowns wanna get up in your drawers Think they hurtin me, ha hah I keep you ill and traced out, tennis brace style Cartier watch my diamond face style Crib on the coast, marble floors laced out Chase you upstairs singing 'Let's Play House' Drop a seed in her, little life to breathe in her Wanna boy so to be sure, I OD'd in her His days are laced in Caesar Leguars All the chicks jealous at the baby showers Beatch! How we do, Funk Flex, yeah Brooklyn... *fades into How About Some Hardcore by M.O.P.*
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