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Jay-Z

Squeeze 1st

  hip-hop  rap  hip hop  east coast rap  jay-z
1,945 3 часа назад

Текст песни Jay-Z - Squeeze 1st

Jay-Z - Squeeze 1st слова песни

Uh, yeah, mmmmWilliam H. niggasHolla, yeah, yoHOOK:That`s why I, squeeze first ask quesions lastThat`s how most of these so called gangstas passI, squeeze first ask questions lastCuz when I pull up, always pop, that`s why I`m livin today[JIGGA]Yo, when I meet ya, I heat ya downWhen I greet ya, meet ya with poundNot the handshake, but the kind that make ya demand a wakeThe kind that put land over your faceI pop ya, let doctors stitch yaI-N-F-R-A, will not miss yaI move light, like my shoes too tightLeave niggas confused from the day to the nightAt night, see the light, when the pistol`s sparkinDaytime it gets dark when that pistol barkinI keep cash `case cops arrest me`case kids kidnap me, kids could get back meYou shall repent `fore you spend a red centIf not you, somebody of close descentThou shalt not fuck with raw me, or heFace a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn CorreyCarter, rap harder like I`m part of a cultLike Cuban cigar maker `cept I`m hard to smokeAnd y`all choke motherfuckersHOOK[JIGGA]I said thou shalt not fuck with raw me, or heFace a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn CorreyCarter, rap harder like I`m part of a cultLike Cuban cigar maker `cept I`m hard to smokeThou shalt not fuck with raw me, or heFace a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn CorreyCarter, rap harder like I`m part of a cultLike Cuban cigar maker `cept I`m hard to smokeAnd y`all choke niggasHOOK[JIGGA]Y`all don`t understandI said thou shalt not fuck with raw me, or heFace a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn CorreyCarter, rap harder like I`m part of a cultLike Cuban cigar maker `cept I`m hard to smokeY`all choke niggasHOOK[JIGGA]See when I`m low in digits, I push blow in a blizzardI`m a player for real, I post and pivotCoke distribute, be where the ghostes visitWhere the demons live, shit my scene is vividSqueamish kids, y`all get the fuck outta this verseIt`s about to get so obscene in a minuteI seen and live it, I did some things I admit itWasn`t proud of it, but I was a child fuck itKept a pow tucked in a brown beltCouldn`t sit down, big gun kept stickin my pelvisShit it was either that or be livin wit ElvisNiggas is jealous, hell is hot, you heard XWanted to tell God that I don`t deserve thisWas afraid that he`d tell me I deserve lessMy life was nervous, you haven`t heard stressTil you heard the cries of my mama, me givin her dramaTold her I aint promised tomorrow, gotta live for the dayAnd before she could say Jay...I was out the door, pouch full of raw, a outlaw mentalityMen gotta do men things for men salaryBad Boy, not Puff or Mike Lowery, damn B.I.G. woulda been proud of meAhh shit man...Young Hova ya heard?Who could fuck wit him?

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