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Threat Lyrics - Artist : Jay-Z
Yo, what's up, pimp, this threats
That's right, that's the, the that's, this threats, pimp And I'm serious about mine, I'm so sincere And I, nigga I'll kill ya, I'll chop ya up Put ya inside the mattress like drug money, nigga Yeah, I done told you niggas 9 or 10 times, stop fucking with me I done told you niggas, 9 albums, stop fucking with me I done told you niggas, the 9 on me, stop fucking with me You niggas must got 9 lives 9th Wonder Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya Am I frightening ya? Shall I continue? I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song I let it hum to ya, the other one sing along Now it's a duet and you wet when you check out The technique from the two TECs and I don't need two lips To blow this like a trumpet, you dumb shit This is a unusual musical, I conduct it You looking at the Black Warren Buffett So all critics can duck sick I don't care if you C. Delores Tuck-it Or you Bill O'Reilly, you only riling me up For three years, they had me peeing out of a cup Now they 'bout to free me up, what you think I'm gon' be, what? Rehabilitated? Man, I still feel hatred I'm young, black and rich so they wanna strip me naked, but You'll never have me like Christina Aguiler-y But catch me down the Westside, driving like Halle Berry Or the FDR, in the seat of my car Screaming out the sunroof, "Death to y'all" You can't kill me, I live forever through these bars I put the wolves on ya, I put a price on your head The whole hood'll want ya, you starting to look like bread I send them boys at ya, I ain't talking 'bout feds Nigga, them body-snatchers, nigga, you heard what I said I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the morning Put your smarts on the side of your garment Nigga stop fucking with me R I P That's right there nigga, nigga, I'm wild Nigga I keep trash bags with me Never know when you gotta dump a nigga out This sincere, this some sincere shit right here! Grown man, I put hands on you I dig a hole in the desert, then build the Sands on you Lay out blueprint plans on you We Rat Pack niggas, let Sam tap dance on you Then I Sinatra, shot ya, goddamn you I put the boy in the box like David Blaine Let the audience watch, it ain't a thing Y'all wish I was fronting, I George-Bush the button For the oil in your car, lift up your hood, nigga run it Then lift up your whole hood like you got oil under it Your boy got the goods, y'all don't want nothing of it Like, castor oil, I'll Castor Troy you Change your face or the bullets change all that for you Y'all niggas is targets, y'all garages for bullets Please don't make me park it in your upper level Valet a couple strays from the .38 special, nigga, God bless you I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the morning Put your smarts on the side of your garment Nigga stop fucking with me R I P Yeah I'm threatening ya, yeah I'm threatening ya! Who you thank you dealing with? They call me "threats", nigga I been making threats since I been in kindergarten, nigga! Huh, ask about me, see if you ain't heard When the gun's tucked, untucked, nigga, you dies Like nunchukus held by the Jet Li I'm the one, thus meaning, no one must try No two, no three, no four—know why? Because one's four-five might blow yo' high You ain't gotta go to church to get to know yo' God It's a match made in heaven when I—blaow!—'splay the 7 Put you on "The Nigga News," UPN at 11 Where you been? You ain't heard? Got the word that I'm—pew-pew!—that I'm so sincere? I'm especially Joe Pesci with it, friend I will kill you, commit suicide and kill you again That's right I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the morning Put your smarts on the side of your garment Nigga stop fucking with me R I P What up? Motherfucker, I keep three motherfuckers what? Nigga I'll throw a Molotov cocktail Through your momma's momma's house Nigga what the, where everybody live! Undercover nigga, take your teeth out your mouth nigga Chew your food up and put the shit back in your mouth nigga And help you swallow Nigga I take a mop handle off nigga And sweep nigga, hold on, I'll be, nigga what? |
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