| Turn my music high, high, high, high-er | |
| 'You don't know.. what you're doing, doing, doing, doing..' | |
| Sure I do.. | |
| I'm from the streets where the | |
| hood could swallow a man, bullets'll follow a man | |
| There's so much coke that you could run the slalom | |
| And cops comb the shit top to bottom | |
| They say that we are prone to violence, but it's home sweet home | |
| Where personalities crash and chrome meets chrome | |
| The coke prices up and down like it's Wall Street homes | |
| But this is worse than the Dow Jones your brains are now blown | |
| all over that brown Brougham, one slip you are now gone | |
| Welcome to hell where you are welcome to sell | |
| But when them shells come you better return 'em | |
| All scars we earn 'em, all cars we learn 'em like the back of our hand | |
| We watch for cops hoppin out the back of van | |
| Wear a G on my chest, I don't need that for damn | |
| This ain't a sewn outfit homes, homes is about it | |
| Was clappin them flamers before I became famous | |
| For playin me y'all shall forever remain nameless | |
| I am Hov' | |
| Sure I do, I tell you the difference between me and them | |
| They tryin to get they ones, I'm tryin to get them M's | |
| One million, two million, three million, four | |
| In just five years, forty million more | |
| You are now lookin at the forty million boy | |
| I'm rapin Def Jam 'til I'm the hundred million man | |
| R., O., C. | |
| 'You don't know.. what you're doing, doing, doing, doing..' | |
| That's where you're wrong | |
| I came into this motherfucker a hundred grand strong | |
| Nine to be exact, from grindin G-packs | |
| Put this shit in motion ain't no rewindin me back | |
| Could make 40 off a brick but one rhyme could beat that | |
| And if somebody woulda told 'em that Hov' would sell clothin | |
| Heh, not in this lifetime, wasn't in my right mind | |
| That's another difference that's between me and them | |
| Heh, I'm smarten up, open the market up | |
| One million, two million, three million, four | |
| In eighteen months, eighty million more | |
| Now add that number up with the one I said before | |
| You are now lookin at one smart black boy | |
| Momma ain't raised no fool | |
| Put me anywhere on God's green earth, I'll triple my worth | |
| Motherfucker - I, will, not, lose | |
| 'You don't know.. what you're doing, doing, doing, doing..' | |
| Put somethin on it | |
| I sell ice in the winter, I sell fire in hell | |
| I am a hustler baby, I'll sell water to a well | |
| I was born to get cake, move on and switch states | |
| Cop the Coupe with the roof gone and switch plates | |
| Was born to dictate, never follow orders | |
| Dickface, get your shit straight, fucka this is Big Jay | |
| I.. hahahaha.. | |
| 'You don't know.. what you're doing, doing, doing, doing..' | |
| .. will, not, lose, ever.. FUCKA! |
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