Jay Z - Bring It On

[Skit]

Aye, Purse, rack 'em up, man

What you bettin', Biggs?

Bet the same thing

Ay, yo, I got next, man

Yo, you got the money, man? You ass bettin' ass, nigga

The shit is right downstairs in the trunk

Don't trip; we parked right behind each other, nigga

I'ma get the shit before we go downstairs

Yeah, aight, what's up with that case, man?

Aw, man, it ain't nothin

Ain't nobody snitchin or nothin; you know our team is tight

Still sittin on seven digits, unlike you, you broke ass nigga

Fuck outta here, this cat right here

This broke ass, ass bettin ass nigga

Bettin five thousand ain't got no money

Chili cheese face ass nigga (fuck outta here)

Sandy cake face ass nigga (fuck outta here)

(Laughter)

[Intro: Sauce Money]

Ayo, Jay, word up

These motherfuckers fucking talking

That comeback shit like they cooking crack

Shit, I ain't fronting

All I want my pockets green like slum change

You know what I'm saying?

Front the roll we roll back like rubbers, motherfucker, for real

With no trace of AIDS

We keep our pockets fully blown

Roc-A-Fella clique, nigga

[Verse 1: Sauce Money]

Ayo, we patting down pussy from Sugar Hill to the Shark Bar

Fuck a bitch D in the marked car

We got the bad bitches gasping for air in Aspen

Searching for Aspirin when I ascend, we swing

You cling we do our thing and bring

Slinging your ding-a-ling from Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn to Beijing

East coast host is hostile colossal

Money flaring like nostrils for drug dealing apostles, huh

Al Pacino down to Nino Brown

Me, Jay and Primo, got it sewed across the board like Poquino

Teflon, make sure your jammy is full

'Cause I heard, Sammy the Bull lamps in Miami with pull

Tropical leaves where I got a few keys

With my man I'll stock a few G's, now it's unstoppable cheese

Said we was garbage, so fuck college

Street knowledge amazing to scholars when we coin phrases for dollars

Star studded bitches with crystals

Get fucked with pistols, just to see my shit, discharge puss

I drop the stellar, even acapella

I got to tell all about Roc-A-Fella

[Chorus: Fat Joe sample]

Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang

And if not then let me do my thing

Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang

And if not then let me do my thing

Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang

And if not then let me do my thing

Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang

And if not then let me do my thing

[Verse 2: Jay-Z]

Mannerisms of a young Bobby DeNiro, spent Spanish wisdoms

In a whip with dinero, crime organized like the Pharoahe

I cream, I diamond gleam

High post like Hakeem, got a lot of things to drop

Brooklyn to Queens, I gotta keep my steam

Niggas wanna try to hem my long jeans

Uptown fiend for Jay-Z to appear on the scene

In the meanwhile, here's something dope for y'all to lean

Liaison for days on end

Money make the world go around so I made some to spend

Can I live, did dough with my nigs, dividends flow

Like the Mississippi Riv', looking jig

Can't do for dolo, had to turn away when Tony killed Manolo

That's real, mixed feelings like a mulatto

Thug thought he was O.G. Bobby Johnson

I played him like Benny Blanco, mano a mano

You ain't ready, I fondle trigger straight up, shoot my guns

Horizontal, get your weight up, I am

Two point two pounds

You're barely a hundred and twenty five grams

Wouldn't expect y'all to understand this money

Do the knowledge, due to few dollars, I'm due to demolish

Crews Brooklyn through Hollis to a hood near you, what the fuck?

[Chorus: Fat Joe]

Bring it on if you think you can hang

[Verse 3: Big Jaz]

Money is power, I'm energetic with facial credit

Pure platinum fetish for cheddars

Spread lettuce heroes get deadish

I make moves that remove pebbles out of shoes

You suck pistol like pipe with the crystal

John Stockton couldn't assist you

Convoys of Benzes like we fouling in the U.N

So what the fuck you doing? Whatever, nigga

Fahrvergnügen, rugged yet polished

Spanking dollars with the commas

Banging bitches out the Bahamas

On hides of llama we cry nada, fly farther

Fry hotter, you die gotta, fuck with me witness mañana

Absence of malice in my palace

Call cousin now Dallas trigger finger with the callus

Tip scales from mail to keep these niggas off balance

Your frequent stops to O.T.B. you feeding me

Steam a nigga scheming on the wrist action with the gleams

Jewels for Pop Duke fulfill your dreams

Never put the pure brown sugar before the dirty green cream

[Chorus: Fat Joe sample]

Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang

And if not then let me do my thing

Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang

And if not then let me do my thing

Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang

And if not then let me do my thing

Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang

And if not then let me do my thing

Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on

Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on

Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on

Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on

Bring it on, if you think, if you think, if you think