|
You're now tuned into the motherfucking greatest |
|
Turn the music up in the headphones |
|
Tim, you can go and brush your shoulder off nigga |
|
I got you, yeah |
|
[Chorus: Jay-Z] |
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If you feeling like a pimp nigga, go and brush your shoulders off |
|
Ladies is pimps too, go and brush your shoulders off |
|
Niggas is crazy baby, don't forget that boy told you |
|
Get, that, dirt off your shoulder |
|
[Verse One] |
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I probably owe it to you all, proud to be locked by the force |
|
Trying to hustle some things, that go with the Porsche |
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Feeling no remorse, feeling like my hand was forced |
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Middle finger to the law, nigga griping my balls |
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All the ladies they love me, from the bleachers they screaming |
|
All the ballers is bouncing they like the way I be leaning |
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All the rappers be hating, off the track that I'm making |
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But all the hustlers they love it just to see one of us make it |
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Came from the bottom the bottom, to the "Top of the Pops" |
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Nigga London, Japan and I'm straight off the block |
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Like a running back, get it man, I'm straight off the block |
|
I can run it back nigga 'cause I'm straight with the Roc |
|
[Chorus] |
|
[Chorus Two] |
|
You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder |
|
You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder |
|
You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder |
|
You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder |
|
[Verse Two] |
|
Your homey Hov' in position, in the kitchen with soda |
|
I just whipped up a watch, trying to get me a Rover |
|
Trying to stretch out the coca, like a wrestler, yes sir |
|
Keep the Heckler close, you know them smokers'll test you |
|
But like, fifty-two cards when I'm, I'm through dealing |
|
Now fifty-two bars come out, now you feel 'em |
|
Now, fifty-two cars roll out, remove ceiling |
|
In case fifty-two broads come out, now you chilling |
|
with a boss bitch of course S.C. on the sleeve |
|
At the 40/40 club, ESPN on the screen |
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I paid a grip for the jeans, plus the slippers is clean |
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No chrome on the wheels, I'm a grown-up for real |
|
[Chorus + Chorus Two] |
|
[Verse Three] |
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Your boy back in the building, Brooklyn we back on the map |
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Me and my beautiful beeeeeeeitch in the back of that 'Bach |
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I'm the realest that run it, I just happen to rap |
|
I ain't gotta clap at 'em, niggas scared of that black |
|
I drop that +Black, Album+ then I back, out it |
|
As the best rapper alive nigga ask about me |
|
From Bricks to Billboards, from grams to Grammies |
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The O's to opposite, Orphan Annie |
|
You gotta pardon Jay, for selling out the Garden in a day |
|
I'm like a young Marvin in his hey |
|
I'm a hustler homey, you a customer crony |
|
Got some, dirt on my shoulder, could you brush it off for me? |
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[Chorus + Chorus Two] |
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You're now tuned into the motherfucking greatest |
|
Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |
