JAY - Dead Presidents текст песни

Текст песни Dead Presidents - JAY



Presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for dead fuckin presidents to represent me (Whose...)
Rock. on, Roc-A-Fella y'all
While others spit that Wonderama shit
Me and my conglomerate
Shall remain anonymous, caught up in the finest shit
Live out my dreams until my heart give out
Involved with cream, you know exactly what this shit's about
Fuck y'all mean? Handlin' since a teen, I dish out
Like the point guard off your favorite team, without doubt
My life ain't rosy but I roll with it
My mind was fine 'til the dough hit it
And told me that the Mo' did it
And now it's kosher, shit is so Hasidic
I blow a digit on a diamond in a minute but, no bitches
Watch how I'm walkin'
'Cause even the thoroughest niggas be NARC'in
Tryin' to strike a bargain, hopin' that they might get pardoned
Shit I'm involved with got me pins and needles
And my cerebral breeds the wickedest evil
Thoughts that this sport'll feed you
Peep facts, in the game so deep fiends could catch a
Freeze off my kneecap, can y'all believe that?
Got the city drinkin' Cristals, re-up the fee
Rappers goin' broke tryin' to keep up with me
My rise to riches surprised the bitches: think harder
You know this nigga: Jay-Z, Shawn Carter
G.S. the fuck up, dree-ess the fuck up
Watch me shine like a Breitling, Breguets the fuck up
All rhymers forget it like Alzheimer's
Small timers, I said it, I'm addressin' all drama
Talk to me!
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for dead fuckin presidents to represent me (Whose...)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for dead fuckin presidents to represent me (Whose...)
So sick of niggas
"I want money like Cosby" who wouldn't?
This the kinda talk
That make me think you probably ain't got no puddin'
Niggas got them kinda dreams from jail
You in the streets, nigga, make your moves, get your mail
Niggas'll coast in the SL but can't post bail
Niggas'll, roast a L but, scared to throw your toast, well
I'm here to tell niggas it ain't all swell
There's heaven, then there's hell, niggas
One day you're cruisin' in your 7
Next day you're sweatin', forgettin' your lies
Alibis ain't matchin' up, bullshit catchin' up
Hit with the RICO, they repo your veh-i-cle
Everything was all good just a week ago
'Bout to start bitchin', ain't you?
Ready to start snitchin', ain't you?
I'll forgive your weak-ass: hustlin' just ain't you
Aside from the fast cars, honies that shake they ass at bars
You know you wouldn't be involved
With the underworld dealers, carriers of MAC-millers
East Coast bodiers, West Coast cap-peelers
Little monkey niggas turn gorillas
Stopped in the station, filled up on octane
And now they not sane and not playin', that goes without sayin'
Slayin' day in and day out
When money play in, then they play you out
Tryin' to escape my own mind, lurkin' the enemy
Representin' infinity with presidencies, you know?
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for dead fuckin presidents to represent me (Whose...)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I'm out for dead fuckin presidents to represent me (Whose...)
So sick of niggas
"I want money like Cosby" who wouldn't?
This the kinda talk
That make me think you probably ain't got no puddin'
Niggas got them kinda dreams from jail
You in the streets, nigga, make your moves, get your mail
Niggas'll coast in the SL but can't post bail
Niggas'll, roast a L but, scared to throw your toast, well
I'm here to tell niggas it ain't all swell
There's heaven, then there's hell, niggas
One day you're cruisin' in your 7
Next day you're sweatin', forgettin' your lies
Alibis ain't matchin' up, bullshit catchin' up
Hit with the RICO, they repo your veh-i-cle
Everything was all good just a week ago
'Bout to start bitchin', ain't you?
Ready to start snitchin', ain't you?
I'll forgive your weak-ass: hustlin' just ain't you
Aside from the fast cars, honies that shake they ass at bars
You know you wouldn't be involved
With the underworld dealers, carriers of MAC-millers
East Coast bodiers, West Coast cap-peelers
Little monkey niggas turn gorillas
Stopped in the station, filled up on octane
And now they not sane and not playin', that goes without sayin'
Slayin' day in and day out
When money play in, then they play you out
Tryin' to escape my own mind, lurkin' the enemy
Representin' infinity with presidencies, you know?



Авторы: Nasir Jones, Lonnie Liston Smith, David Anthony Willis, Peter O. Phillips, Shawn Carter


JAY - Death Row
Альбом Death Row
дата релиза
16-06-2020




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