|
Dead Presidents (Part 1) Lyrics - Artist : Jay-Z
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 fucking 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? Handling 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 walking, 'cause even the thoroughest niggas be NARC'in Trying to strike a bargain, hoping 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 drinking Cristals, re-up the fee Rappers going broke trying 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 addressing 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 fucking 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 fucking 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 pudding 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 cruising in your 7, next day, you're sweating, forgetting your lies Alibis ain't matching up, bullshit catching up Hit with the RICO, they repo your vehicle Everything was all good just a week ago 'Bout to start bitching, ain't you? Ready to start snitching, ain't you? I'll forgive your weak ass: hustling just ain't you Aside from the fast cars, honies that shake their 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're not sane And not playing, that goes without saying Slaying day in and day out, when money play in, then they play you out Trying to escape my own mind, lurking the enemy Representing infinity with presidencies, you know? Dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose) Dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose) Dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose) Dead fucking 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 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 presidents to represent me (Get money!) I'm out for dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose) |
Other Lyrics
|
Copyright © 2009-2024 |