Jay-Z Interview

[Verse 1: Hit-Boy] All these niggas really know my at bat average, ridiculous rap patterns And fuck what you know, this youngen got the coldest beats All my old hoes laying in the coldest sheets Even if they married they still can't get over me You 0 for 3, I'm shooting a hundred right from the field now I'm just a Fresh Prince, buzzing like Uncle Phil's child And I Will style, peace to all my Hilary's Stuffin' money in banks, hitting Marilyn's like a Kennedy And if you feeling me, just let me know it 'Cos I just set the stage and get these words off like a poet I'm Robert Frost cold on these hoes, I just give them the Edgar Allen Poe up Sippin something expensive and party 'till they throw up Hold up All my niggas roll up, until the cops show up My momma says "momma's son is a millionaire" And just for that, throw your ones up in the air This is Freshman Adjustment meets Late Registration Connected up with the kings all 'cos of Ricky's relations To the nigga I've been studying since I started creating Now all these niggas is hating, waiting, judging, debating Tryin' to charge me with a flagrant, but I will not stop They tryin' to Derek Fisher the boy, but I will not flop Instead I take it bassline, like Kobe And I play my own drums and basslines, you know me, homie I'm getting courted by the bosses The Ye's, the Hov's, the Puff's, and all them nigga's who's notorious for flossing Known to be in places these niggas ain't never heard of I fucked women and watched thrones up in the Mercer Sign my signature in cursive for them incidentals Then we got fucked up off that Ace listening to instrumentals I came a long way from that place where niggas can't wait to get you And now you copped your favorite mag and I'm in the latest issue And all the bitches I could never bag, they steadily claiming they miss you And it's a shame when I get the low-fade Have all these women feeling like the fourth grade Crushin on a Youngen, 'cos they know I'm so paid Once I get the digits consider me so laid And none of this shit is fiction cos really I don't play I changed up my old ways, to kill 'em like OJ Remind them of a young Mike, fresh J's and a gold chain I stay tailored like politicians, but fuck like I'm out on bond Women catching feelings trying to be my first son mom But I'm catching millions trying to be the first one on And my CD, do you feel me, if you coming, come on IE nigga, I'm a IE nigga Went from Colton High School to the widescreen nigga Couldn't walk in my shoes or jog by me nigga Since I play by my rules I acquired these figures Now a nigga got enough to supersize, ride with him No surprise, all these Benjamins inside my denim Couldn't be the nigga sitting on the sideline benching Open minds will be the ones to oblige my vision Televise my mission, on channel 5, see me in the news They monitor my every move, wanna see me lose Hear the shit I spit like "what the fuck has gotten into you?" I got 'em tuned in like a Jay-Z interview