Lyrics
, is he a blood, is he crip?, is he that, is he this?, did he do it? y'know, ehh, look. if i shoot you, i'm brainless, different toilet, same shit, and i'm sick of explainin this, i'm waitin on arraignment, my nigga is the plantiff, yeah, i know what you thinkin - fucked up ain't it?, i shoulda known better, and i planned to, but dog they be takin me out of my zone like a nigga with a handle, i sat back and watched it, put the gats back in the closet, i tried to tie my hands like an iraqi hostage, let niggaz take shots at me, no response, i just - flip and, pop my collar like the fonz, you give a nigga a foot he'll take you one step beyond, he'll try to play you twice, the third time is the charm, you wanna conversate with the writer of the qu'ran, or old testament, don't test him then, i know what y'all thinkin dick, pause, your future's my past, i've been here before, i know when you're schemin, i feel when you plottin, i got, mental vision, intuition, i know where you goin i read your mind's navigational system, everybody whisperin - pst pst pst ss perspirin, when the, streets is talkin, niggaz is gossipin, bitches all in your shit, what's the cause of it?, i need to know. geah geah, yeah yeah yeah, yeah. you see me with a bodyguard that means police is watchin, and i only use his waist to keep my glock in, but when shit goes down you know who's doin the poppin, and if you don't know, guess who's doin the droppin, s dot again, y'all got him in a bad mood, bad move; that's bad news, how many times have i got to prove?, how many loved ones have you got to lose, before you realize that it's probably true?, whatever jigga say, jigga probably do, shit i paid my dues, i made the news, i came in the door for dolo, blazed the crews, and the streets say jigga can't go back home, you know when i heard that? when i was back home, i'm comfortable dog, brooklyn to rome, on any martin luther, don't part with your future, don't ever question if i got the heart to shoot ya, the answer is simply too dark for the user, and as a snot-nose they said that he got flows, but will he be able to drop those before the cops close in?, 'fore the shots froze him, and he's dead and gone, from what the block has spoken, my god, everybody stressin, who's his baby's moms?, who he got pregnant, let me tell you, ahh. when the, streets is talkin, niggaz is gossipin, bitches all in your shit, what's the cause of it?, i need to know. chicka-uh-ah, ah-chk-ah-uh-ah, chicka-ch-ah, chk-ah-ah-ah, when the, streets is talkin, niggaz is gossipin, bitches all in your shit, what's the cause of it?, i need to know. gi-gi-gi, geah yeah uh, yeah yeah uh, yeah, yo, yo, i seen my first murder in the hall, if you must know, i lost my pops when i was eleven mmm twelve years old, he's probably somewhere where the liquor is takin it's toll, but i ain't mad at you dad, holla at your lad, i grew up pushin snowflake to niggaz that was pro-base, the stress'll take a young nigga, give him a old face, all i did was smoke joke, think and drink, copped 'caine and complained, front row watch game, i seen niggaz before me, with a chance to write they own script, slip up and change the story, i seen young niggaz go out in a blaze of glory, before reachin puberty, scared a nigga truthfully, i took trips with so much shit in the whip, that if the cops pulled us over the dog'd get sick, sniff, smell me nigga? the real me nigga, minus the rumors, holla if you feel me nigga, the streets is not only watchin but they talkin now?, shit they got me circlin the block before i'm parkin now, don't get it twisted, i ain't bitchin, i'm just cautious now, so, under the park the extra cartridge now, hit his click sig' up you fell at it you're dense, i get word to the street like bell atlantic express, i feel the vibes and i hear the rumors, but fuck it, i'm still alive and i'm still? allah, niggaz wanna press me, put my back to the wall, but pressure bust pipes i know, i spat it to y'all, to know me is to love me, you see me, can't be me, hate this, fuck you i got guns like neo in +matrix+, cross the family, think mac's sweet like payroll, or soft like play-doh get knocked off like fredo, corleone, they find you with a hole in your dome, i roll with niggaz that'll follow you and go to your home, thought you ball, but nigga you fall to my defense, catch you while you reachin, clip you then i cross you then i'm leavin, apply full court pressure, like four-four? get you out of here, pull pressure, to the trigger, bullets fly in three's, you forever rest under bullshit, dirt lies and leaves, i do bullshit, dirt, tell lies then leave, look in my eyes, realize it's beans, niggaz wanna despise the team; till i play head coach, and straight up, divide they team, trade they man for some pies and a couple of things, til the bullet. ah, motherfuckers! yeah.
Song details
Artist: jay-z