Testi musica canzoni

[Jay-Z]BounceUhhh, ha, uhhh, haUhhh, uh-huh-uh-uhhh, uhh, uh-huhThis for my hustlers.. uh-huhAnd for the bitches.. yeahYo, yoThis is for my niggaz down in Houston on candy paintAll my niggaz in the Dirty South, Miami mayneAll my niggaz in the A-T-L throwin dem bonesAll them thugs that send slugs through your clothes; holla at meIt's for the black culture, Spanish chicks with the sweet chochaSpanish cats with the ki's of cocoaAll the haters eat a dick they wanna see you brok-erI hope the heat stroke ya, the misery is overAll my deep smokers, I hope the leaf choke yaHope you'll never be sober I'ma toast to myselfI hope the Crist' get me, spiralin into a tizzySo pissy, swervin on the road dizzyMay God protect my soul, angels walk with meFirst do the flow sickly, niggaz is so shiftyThe fo'-fo' is like a force field, you won't get meI brought some folk with me, Brooklyn is loc'n with meWhat the fuck?[Chorus: Juvenile repeat 2X]You know, we rideAll day, all nightPop Crist, shoot diceFuck hoes, for life[Jay-Z]This is for my chicks that get dough for takin off they clothesAll them money makin honeys that slide down the polesAll my educated chicks who grade is 4.0All the baby mamas across the globe; aiyyoI like my women friends feminineI like my hoes on "X" like Eminem.. shit!I like em bow-legged, never coke-headedWith a dough fetish - the drive to go get itI like they toes proper, I like they clothes PradaI like they shoes Gucci, I like new coochieI fucked a few groupies, in a few hooptiesI got em iceberg shit they thought I knew SnoopyI cop them Roc-a-Wear, my mamis dedicatedThey never tell me no, the most they said is "not here"I got they ears studded, both wrists baguettedI got a main chick, a mistress, and a young bitchForget it I'm the don[Chorus][Jay-Z]Wha-What?This is for my dice shooters, cats doin lifeBy the time I get this kite to ya, I hope you doin alrightWho got em platinum up? Who got the chicks in the truck?Too much to sit comfortably, they lappin upWho shit is big pimpin? See the flow differentI drop heavy then I let the four-fifth flip emI keep rappers talkin to kids, Jigga "Sixth Sense-d" emDon't mention my name and lames in the same sentenceYou see I'm so thorough, take on your whole boroughBe so careful I hear the whistle from the fo'-fo' barrelKeep the flow Hovah; icy neck, cold shoulderWho click is closest to La Costra Nostra?It's "The Roc"[Chorus 1.5X]more