Intro:    Ha ha ha ha Roc a Fella y'all    Futuristic shit beeotch    Uh what the fuck? How we do. How we do. Uh ha       Verse 1:    Triple platnum nigga with the solid gold fade    All that nickle and dime shit don't hold no weight    Fortune 5 top 5 in the Forbes (you'll see) as you    Thumb through the Source I read the Ride report    Class C cold me down with the plastic    That's all I Ask Of You, like Raphael Saadiq    At the hotel, Nico, robbin' the val suite    My people's eyes through the peep hole    I'm lovin' you down freak as I    Shoot through the city like a rumor    Not soon enough, to stop 'em from spreadin' the news    Paper headin' read "Jay-Z breaths, 80 degrees"    the only thing to cool them off is a Malibu day breeze    Can't sop for the feds, say cheese    You know they wanna take a nigga picture    Pray for the day to get ya, but I'm a parlay and stay richer for now    Jigga hasn't done dirt in a while    YOu know my stomach getin' weak from livin' on the streets for real    Tryin' to oversee it from suites, orderin' eats    At the top where the criminal minds meet    That's where the cream is (right) , that's where your dream is (well ain't    it?)       Hook:    You're only a customer (uh)    Walkin' in the presence of hustlers    You spend money all night long    "All night long" - Mary J. Blige       Verse 2:    A-yo my youth had a nigga too aggressive    I use to speed excessive, both eyes closed    No thought infested    Hittin' pot holes, cop-o's will snatch your weight    But your game most precious    Had to rethink things, is pinky ring worth    Life on the run and time served in Sing Sing    I don't know to tell the truth    If I'm pressed for doe, I got to consoul Irv Gotti y'all       Irv Gotti:    Heads got to roll       Jay-Z:    I was raised to live, Lord I pray you forgive    If not, I just handle it like Jason Kidd    What you're facin' is official (it's official)    Most cases when I"m blazin' won't miss you (won't miss you)    Case and point mad bullshitted issue    I see it to the end, my writting is so personal    My heart bleedin' out my pen, make no mistake aobut me    It's only one nigga livin', I got a half a cake about me    I got love, to make a nigga die bleedin' is nothin'    You make a motherfucker die breathin' then you sayin' somthing, beeotch       Hook (X3)       More flavor than y'all can image havin'    Graphic like Sega, Saturn, traffic like the Bodega    It just so happens, you caught me at the the tail end of my dive    My brain ain't right from inhaling the work of my life    Fuck it, 3's in ya, had to hold    D.C. high pissy off Cristle    3 G's high seasoned Bacardy, UV's    Blesses my body, we be fresh at the party    Play yourself go head if you don't no the ledge    It's like spittin' to God    Get it in your face fuckin' with niggas over your head    Take your time with me, shiftee    Use to make Coke stretch like the samplin' a 950    Shit with that, while I'm o a Kawasoki bike    At the light, doin' a pike, with a bitch on the back    And take flight, my life like it was directed by Hype    In 35 slow-mo, with the Rockafella logo    Accapoco to Arruba, bay breezes and caviar baluga    Very little loot, a loser    In the grashish blueish, Les Coup it's the root of evil in these people       Hook (X3)