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Can’t Knock The Hustle – Jay-Z

(feat. Mary J. Blige)
I’m makin short term goals,whonder whether foes
just put away the leathers and put ice on the gold
chilly with enough bail money to free a big willy
high stakes, i got more at stake than philly
shoppin sprees, copin three, duece fever i guess its fully loaded,
ah yes,
bouncin in the lex luger, tires smoke like buddha
50 g’s to the crap shooter,
niggas can’t fade me
chrome socks beamin, through my periphial i see ya schemin
stop dreamin’,i leave ya body steamin
niggas is feenin, whats the meanin
i’m leanin on any nigga intervenin with the sound of my money machine-in
my cuff runnin over with hundreds
im one of the best niggas that done it
six digits and runnin,
y’all niggas don’t want it
i got the godfather flow, the don juan demarco
swear to god, don’t get it fucked up

[Mary j. blige(chorus)]

takin out this time
to give you a piece of my mind
(cause you can’t knock the hustle)
but though you think you are
baby one day you’ll be a star

that scene out of state where i drop my slang
i’m deep in the south kickin up top game
bouncin on the highway switchin 4 lanes
screamin through the sun roof money ain’t a thang
your worst fear confirmed,
me and my fam roll tight like the firm
gettin down for life, thats right, you better learn
why play with fire, burn
we get together like a choir
to acquire what we desire
we do dirt like worms
produce g’s like sperm
til legs spread like germs
i got extensive hoes, with expensive clothes
and i sip wine, and split ends exposed
but y’all don’t know……
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
cause you can’t knock the hustle

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[Mary J.Blige]

but until that day then
i’m the one whose crazy
cause thats the way ya makin me feel
(cause you can’t knock the hustle)
i’m just tryin to get mine,
i don’t have the time
to knock the hustle for real

y’all niggas lunchin, punchin a clock
my function is lo make much ‘n’ lay back munchin
sippin remy on rocks, my crew
somethin to watch nothin to stop
scheme on the ice, i gotta hide your crew
i gotta
let you niggas know the time like movado
my motto,
stack rocks like colorado
bottle off the champagne, cristals by the bottle
its a damn shame what ya knot though
slick like i got though (who?)
fuckin Jay-Z
pops knew exactly what he did when he made me
tried to get a nut and he got a nut and what
straight banana’s
can a nigga, see me
got the US Open, advantage jigga
serve like sampras, play fake a rappers like a campus
(netigra???), son you’re to eager
you ain’t havin it? good, me either
lets get together and make this whole world believers
at my araignment, screamin
all these blacks got is sports and entertainment, until we even
thievin, as long as i’m breathin
can’t knock the way a nigga eatin
fuck you even

[Mary J. Blige]

takin out this time
to give you a piece of my mind
but though you think you are
baby one day you’ll be a star
but until that day then
i’m the one whose crazy
cause thats the way ya makin me feel,
i’m just tryin to get mine, i don’t have the time
to knock the hustle for real

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Hova Song (Outro) – Jay-Z

Who ever thought young Shawn Carter would change the game?
Used to rap to the raindrops off my window pane
Duckin the plain cops, pushin indo and ‘caine
At the kitchen table late night, no pen, just my brain
First album niggaz love me cause they thought I was poor
Guess I’m successful; industry don’t love me no more
Well I’m the same nigga from your corner, bubblin raw
Skully tilted, pants saggin, damn near touchin the floor
And I come with do-rags to your so-called awards
T-shirt with my chain out like fuck y’all all
Retrospect ain’t been the same since I lost my dad
He’s still alive, but still fuck you, don’t cross my path
A&R’s had me feelin like moss in the drab
So I turned the league out with “Reasonable Doubt”
Get your CD’s out, let’s go, song for song
I’m the illest nigga doin it til y’all prove me wrong
Do you believe?
It’s Hova the God, uhh, uhh, uhh..
READ  U Don't Know - Jay-Z
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Friend Or Foe – Jay-Z

check one check two, you know what to do
primo, cold crush when i give it to you
friend or foe yo, state your biz
ya tend to dough, ah , there it is
me, i run the show, oh, and these kids
don’t like nobody commin around here fuckin wit they doe for shit
you enterprisin though,
and i like it
but fuck with the big dogs though, i gotta bite ya,
look, its out of my hands
and you gettin money round here, its not in the plans
so hop yo ass out of that van, head back to kansas
i’m sendin niggas back up in campuses
chance is slimmer than that chick in calvin klien pantses
let me guess, they said it was money round here
and the rest is me stoppin you from gettin it, correct?
sorry to hear that, my guess is you got work at the hotel
i’ll take care of that , you’ll see, now please
give me the room key
you’re twitchin, don’t do that, you makin me nervous
my crew, well, they do pack, them niggas is murderous
so would ya, please put your hand back in sight
they don’t like to see me nervous you can understand that, right?
you draw, better be picasso, y’know the best
cause if this is not so, ah, god bless
you leave me no choice, i leave you no voice
believe me son i hate to do it just as bad as you hate to see it done
now calm your boys,
cause i’m findin it a little hard to concentrate with all the noise
get the point, i’ll let ya go,
before ya leave,i guess i aughta let you know, i need those keys
and promise you never, no matter the weather
evaevaevaevaevaevaevaevaeva come around here no mo’
READ  Lucky Me - Jay-Z
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Excuse Me Miss Again – Jay-Z

[Hook: Pharrell]
Memph Bleek always smoking that lalala….(Hooo)
Beanie Sigel always smoking that lalala….(Hooo)
Neptunes track smoke like lalala… (Hooo)
It’s the ROC baby sing, I lullaby
Come on!

Excuse me miss, I’m the shit (do you want me to do it?)
You should come, hang wit me, basically (do you want me to do it?)
Hold up, skip all the singin’ lets go ride tonight, mami (Come on now…Uhhh)

I know my English ain’t as modest as you like
But come, get some, you little bums
I take the cake from under the baker’s thumbs
I bake the cake get two of them for one
Then I move the +weight+ like I’m +Oprah’s son+
Uhhh, I show you how to do this son
Young don’t mess wit chicks in Burberry paddings
Fake Manolo boots straight from Steve Madden (un-uh)
He padded hisself the rap JFK, you wanna pass for my Jaqueline Onassis
Then hop ya ass out that S-class
Lay back in that maebach, roll the best grass, I ask…
Have you in your long-legged life
ever seen a watch surrounded by this much pink ice? (uhh)
Look but don’t touch, muthafucker think twice
Cause the gat that I clutch got a little red light
Need a light?…

To smoke that lalala…(Hooo)
Beanie Sigel always smoking that lalala….(Hooo)
Memph Bleek always smoking that lalala….(Hooo)
It’s the ROC mami sing I lullaby
Come on!


We got brothers full of Arme, mamis in Manolo
Bags by Chanel, Louis Vuitton logos
All attracted to Hov’ because they know dough
When they see him, which be European
If you’re a +te-en+ (ten) chances your wit +him+
If you’re a five you know you ridin’ wit th-em
Sick wit the pen nigga, no position in the world could fix him
No prescription, you could prescribe to subside his affliction
He’s not a sane man, more like reign man twitchin’
You can’t rain dance on his picnic
No Haitian voodoo, no headless chickens can dead his sickness (whoo)
No Ouija board, you can’t see me dog, nigga you +CB4+
This ain’t +Chris Rock+ bitch, it’s the ROC bitch
And I’m the +franchise+ like a Houston Rocket
Nawimean (Yao Ming)…

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Still smoking that lalala…
Memph Bleek still smoking that lalala….
Beanie Sigel, desert eagle to fo’ to five….
It’s the ROC baby sing, I lullaby
Come on!


Forget English talk body language
I be all over mamis like body painters
Pink diamond necklace, strawberry wrist
Please excuse yourself, you’re very sick
Don’t confuse me wit marbury out this bitch
Run up on me at the light, you could lose your life
Muh’fuckas must be smoking they lalala la crack
.45 gun smoke, choke off that
Back to the music, I ain’t wit all that
Plus the feds tappin my music I get all that
I’m THE public industry number one
Public industry number two is my whole crew R-O-C
And I ain’t concerned wit’ who like me, who like you
That’s gay, I ain’t into likin’ dudes no way
But get a pen, I can tell you pricks my plans for the future
I never make the news again my man’ll shoot ya

As we, smoke that lalala…(Hooo)
Memphis Bleek always smoking that lalala….(Hooo)
Beanie Sigel, desert eagle to fo’ to five….(Hooo)
It’s the ROC bitch sing, I lullaby
Come on!


Do you want me to do it… come watch me now, uhhh

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