JAY-Z — I Shot Ya Freestyle

[Intro] Yeah, what the fuck! Jay-Z, Marcy, Brooklyn Representin' the, what, what Roc-A-Fella y'all, for life Stretch Armstrong Bring the noise, haha Clown-ass niggas (Yeah) You know how we get down [Verse 1] Uh, Roc-A-Fella's capo, unflappable Test my weight in the Apple Never a question of if, but when you gonna die like cattle Beef, I go at it so rugged, you swear, I love it Is that so, hard to learn? My burner give niggas permanent heart murmurs If that ain't reason for concern (woo!) My, crew endangers Estranged miscellaneous niggas Left in troubled waters like Greg Louganis Ain't nothin' touchin' from Brooklyn to Metuchen Or wherever the fuck you cats rest your head at, dead that The last time you seen us, niggas popped up in Beamers Shopped up in Neiman's, locked hip-hop up between us Squeamish rappers stay out of my space like Venus Or it's Soulshocker, Jigga Niggademus Murderous writin', not a word of it to your likin' Since we make you hate to love it like Prince 'Til a nigga feel straight like Bill Gates Or feel a mil'-eight, we gon' spill hate, in-fil-trate Die! It's your fate, realize the great Get your hardhats, professionals rockin', nigga, wait Timing's everything, everything that glitters ain't gold There's diamonds in every ring, what the fuck! In the driver's seat, nigga used to live in the back Muggsy Bogues style, now a nigga bigger than Shaq Crib in the Cat, skills, living phat Chickens that used to act ill Fuck y'all, I ain't forgivin' that (Fuck y'all!) A nigga bitter so, when a nigga hit you, believe (Ugh) I'm tryna hurt your stomach like ten thousand sit-ups (Yeah) Jigs, baby, what it is! Just as casual You blast for me, you better believe I blast for you Yeah! [Interlude] Yeah, uh-huh, yeah Every time, y'all (Roc-A-Fella, y'all) What, what, Jay-Z, huh (What, yeah, yeah) Yeah, yeah, Roc-A-Fella y'all (Marcy) What, we rock on y'all, representin' the Yeah, yeah uh-huh (Let these niggas know) West Coast niggas, man Getting out of line, man Watch your step, haha Fuck around Yeah, yeah, yeah [Verse 2] Yo, react, biatch nigga Think they can fuck with the rich nigga Jigga, they can't touch ya Say y'all, we livin' like STNRs (?) You faggot niggas don't play yours, my team'll slay yours Naysayers, can't fuck around we lay yours With our hands up there, shit, I swear to God Since money's respected you know I had to get it Collect it like antiques, and let it stack Brrrrrrr, like that I mastered this fast shit, now I move on 'Cause too many bastards tried to get they groove on And now you see me jiggy, you puzzled He ain't sellin' no records, is he? That nigga gotta hustle Shit, you bet your guns, by any means, I get my ones You intervene, by any means, I get ya done For real