S. Carter

作词 : JAY-Z/Shawn Carter/Russell Howard/Sean Francis/A. Whitehead

作曲 : JAY-Z/Shawn Carter/Russell Howard/Sean Francis/A. Whitehead

[03:20.60][02:26.40][02:15.73][01:21.28][01:10.68][00:16.19][00:05.26]S-dot-Carter

[03:22.27][02:27.83][02:17.23][01:22.55][01:11.78][00:17.44][00:05.84]Y'all must try harder

[03:34.66][03:29.10][03:23.90][02:35.26][02:29.65][02:24.04][02:18.75][01:29.71][01:24.16][01:18.81][01:13.65][00:24.42][00:19.33][00:14.07][00:08.15]Competition is

[03:25.99][02:31.00][02:19.72][01:25.56][01:14.78][00:20.25][00:09.98]Nada

[03:26.57][02:32.12][02:21.22][01:26.89][01:16.06][00:21.78][00:11.02]Ladies scream papa

[03:27.60][02:32.98][02:22.31][01:29.14][01:17.09][00:23.06][00:12.27]Bitches can't stop ya

[03:30.57][02:36.44][02:25.24][01:31.00][01:19.96][00:15.13]No, no, no

No, no, no, nope

You can't see 'em

Though you got plans to be him

Pay homage if by chance you meet him

In his pants pocket, your advance and per diem

It's the undisputed champ, being

For clique, dough sick, no medicine for us

Competition like I said in the chorus

Let me spell it out for ya

Jay to tha Amil

(A to the Y stay real **** how they feel, uh-huh, uh-huh)

That's how we put it down

(Uh-huh, uh-huh y'all gon get it now)

Chip off the old block

Resemble my old pops

'Cept I tote glocks and open **** spots

And I shut down rap crews

Smack them cats who flash tools

Laugh at fake ballers with bad jewels

I'll tell you once

This is shit you should've knew

(Jigga what?)

Jigga

(Jigga who?)

Okay

I'mma Roc-a-fella soldier

I thought I told ya

Hustler, bitch move weight like Oprah

Drive wide body, twenty-inch big motor

No tints, make no mistake y'all it's Hova

I stay sportin' played Jordan's before Jordan

Verses tight, hooks harder than Ken Norton

Musically touching you

Truthfully I abuse beats better call BCW

I make my mother move

So I have no problem coming around the old way

Sluggin' you, that's what a thug will do

(Thuggin', bust techs, a suspect dangerous, and I love rough sex)

Yeah that's what's up

Even when I'm asleep the gats is up

Paranoid like Sunny drive backing up

But I'm from Bed-Stuy, killa with the flow

Let lead fly from out the four-four, mother****ers

None I remain at the top like the sun

And I burn whoever come in my chambers of torture

The flame gon' spark ya

Blood stain the tarp

But remains they chalk ya

Don't try to smooth talk us

You got nothing to offer

But the baby nine

And make ya fine offer

The chick is ill

Even with four-inch heels

No panties on and Patricia Fields

I get down

Just name the time, the place

We could take it back to Vaseline on our face

On a regular day we just gleam up your space

Rock our own line, got our whole team laced

RW with the torch on my jeans by the waist

Without heat we still gon steam up the place

(Amil-lion, Jigga man, flawless, here we go)