Jay-Z - Bring It On (feat. Big Jaz, Sauce Money) (Prod. by DJ Premier) | Текст песни

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• Jay-Z
• Bring It On (feat. Big Jaz, Sauce Money) (Prod. by DJ Premier)

[Intro - SauAnnotatece Money]
Jay word up, these motherfuckers
Fuckin' talkin' that comeback shit like they cookin' crack
Shit I ain't frontin', all I want my pockets green like slum change
You know what I'm sayin', 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]
We pattin' down pussy from Sugarhill to the Shark Bar
Fuck a bitch D in the marked car
We got the bad bitches gaspin' for air in Aspen
Searchin' for Aspirin when I [ascend], we swing
You cling we do our thing and bring
Slingin' your ding-a-ling from Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn to Beijing
East Coast host is hostile colossal
Money flarin' like nostrils
For drug dealin' apostles, 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

[Hook: Fat Joe]
Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang
And if not then let me do my thing
(repeat 4X)

[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 in
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' lookin' 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 fire no 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

[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 foulin' in the U.N
So what the fuck you doin
Whatever nigga, Fahrvegnugen, 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

Yeah, bring it on (Fat Joe)
(repeat 5X)

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