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featuring Jennifer Lopez |
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[Black Rob] |
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Yo look clown I come through to put it down |
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Keep thinkin that you hard take a look around |
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I got soldiers stationed up to bring pain |
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And when it go down my hoes do the same thing |
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We all in the same game, we all willin to bang |
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Ain't nobody going against the grain, so take aim |
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B.R.'s evasive, cut all the faces, catch all the cases, this real |
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You rather bet'cha life than face me |
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I mean I got this rap game locked with more cake than Tastee |
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Black the feindest, the title I hold I won't relinquish |
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And this type shit you should distinguish |
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And one phone call and I'll extinquish, I mean this you seen this |
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Blue steel fo-fo the caliber, Excalibur, Im'a destroy my next challenger |
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B. Rob high post MC, quick to spray Raid on the roach MC |
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So don't be apporachin me without the cross and rosary |
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Who this nigga 'pose to be, I blast him in the open beef |
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Damn Black, how you do that der? |
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'Cuz we..don't..care, I'll take 'em there |
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Chorus: Jennifer Lopez |
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Last night, I dreamed of some more dough |
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Some crystal, sixty thousand, and ten dimes of 'dro |
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(I'll take 'em there) |
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That's when I realized I'm dreaming |
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Too late now, guess I'll finish what I started baby |
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[Black Rob] |
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Y'all niggas heard the first verse no doubt shit bangin |
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Verse two make sure none of y'all left hangin |
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Got honies lovin this shit too, girl I'm with'chu |
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Long as you know my pants don't fit'choo |
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Money good look, understand why he shook |
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Shit I'm rich, face all up in the Guiness Book |
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Check, all the records I set, its major |
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Check, that the sets I wreck with flavor |
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**** that cajun, guns stay bond cock |
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Boiling hot, hold shit down like Fort Knox |
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Man, knock the rhyme unorthadox |
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What'cha barely understand, shit I did with the L.O.X. |
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Give me the props, Im tryin set a mark this year |
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And bring the equipment out to the parks this year |
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So y'all could see how it used to be |
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I'm lookin towards the future see |
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Black here to stay, its time y'all got used to me |
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Puff said Black ain't tryin to fit in |
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Up and down the coast can't count the spots I've been in |
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Put'cha bid in |
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Chorus |
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[Black Rob] |
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I hit arenas swinging notice if my name was Teddy Pender |
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hot beats and hot rhymes tossed in a blenda' |
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I want ch'all to feel hardcore, nothin tenda' |
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Blessed this mic for as long as I remember |
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Y'all can't see the Rob, uh-uhh, y'all must be stupid |
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If I owe Sean Combs any money then I recouped it |
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I looped it, this fly shit from Nebodaga |
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Me and Yogi and Hard Pierre from You Dont Know Me |
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I dare you to come against me, run against me |
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Use your gun against me, you finito, finished |
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I've seen wild cats diminished, foldin for, Bad Boy's known to ball |
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Internationally, I'm sayin actually |
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I have to be the next cat to go and sell a million records casually |
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So, prepare yourself for the storm, Nineteen-nine-nine its on |
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And I'm just gettin warm |
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Chorus |
