[Intro: Jay-Z]
Talk to me, man… (Ugh-ugh)
It's your boy, Young Hov
And if you turn the motherfucking noise up
We can get right into the proceedings this evening
The headphones are distortin', bring it down a lil' bit
Okay
Now, we working with it (Ugh, ugh)
The boy Face up in Baseline, baby (Facemob!)
Welcome to New York City (Ugh, ugh, ugh)
It's your boy Young Hov' (Chyeah, chyeah)
Kanye West on the track (Woo!)
Chi-Town, what’s going on now? (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
Can I talk to y'all for a minute?
Let me talk to y'all for a minute
Just gimme a minute of your time, baby
I don't want much (Woo!)
Let me talk to these motherfuckers
Ugh!
[Verse 1: Jay-Z]
Guess who's bizzack?
You still smelling crack in my clothes
Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes
Take it back out to taxing them roads; when I was huggin' it
Niggas couldn't do none wit it, straight from the oven wit it
Came from the dirt
I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt
You can blame my old earth
For the shit she instilled in me, still with me, pain plus work
Shit, she made me milk this game for all it's worth
That's right, these niggas can't fuck with me
I'm calling "guts" every time, drag my nuts every time, homie
We make a great combination, don't we?
Me and the Facemob, every time we face off
Face it, y'all—y'all niggas playin' basic-ball
I'm on the block like I'm eight feet tall (Woo!)
Homie, I'm in the drop with the A/C off
That's why the streets embrace me, dog, I'm so cool!
Talk to me, man… (Ugh-ugh)
It's your boy, Young Hov
And if you turn the motherfucking noise up
We can get right into the proceedings this evening
The headphones are distortin', bring it down a lil' bit
Okay
Now, we working with it (Ugh, ugh)
The boy Face up in Baseline, baby (Facemob!)
Welcome to New York City (Ugh, ugh, ugh)
It's your boy Young Hov' (Chyeah, chyeah)
Kanye West on the track (Woo!)
Chi-Town, what’s going on now? (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
Can I talk to y'all for a minute?
Let me talk to y'all for a minute
Just gimme a minute of your time, baby
I don't want much (Woo!)
Let me talk to these motherfuckers
Ugh!
[Verse 1: Jay-Z]
Guess who's bizzack?
You still smelling crack in my clothes
Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes
Take it back out to taxing them roads; when I was huggin' it
Niggas couldn't do none wit it, straight from the oven wit it
Came from the dirt
I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt
You can blame my old earth
For the shit she instilled in me, still with me, pain plus work
Shit, she made me milk this game for all it's worth
That's right, these niggas can't fuck with me
I'm calling "guts" every time, drag my nuts every time, homie
We make a great combination, don't we?
Me and the Facemob, every time we face off
Face it, y'all—y'all niggas playin' basic-ball
I'm on the block like I'm eight feet tall (Woo!)
Homie, I'm in the drop with the A/C off
That's why the streets embrace me, dog, I'm so cool!
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