[Jay-Z]

Turn my music high, high, high, high-er

"You don't know.. what you're doing, doing, doing, doing.."

Sure I do..



I'm from the streets where the

hood could swallow a man, bullets'll follow a man

There's so much coke that you could run the slalom

And cops comb the shit top to bottom

They say that we are prone to violence, but it's home sweet home

Where personalities crash and chrome meets chrome

The coke prices up and down like it's Wall Street homes

But this is worse than the Dow Jones your brains are now blown

all over that brown Brougham, one slip you are now gone

Welcome to hell where you are welcome to sell

But when them shells come you better return 'em

All scars we earn 'em, all cars we learn 'em like the back of our hand

We watch for cops hoppin out the back of van

Wear a G on my chest, I don't need that for damn

This ain't a sewn outfit homes, homes is about it

Was clappin them flamers before I became famous

For playin me y'all shall forever remain nameless

I am Hov'



Sure I do, I tell you the difference between me and them

They tryin to get they ones, I'm tryin to get them M's

One million, two million, three million, four

In just five years, forty million more

You are now lookin at the forty million boy

I'm rapin Def Jam 'til I'm the hundred million man

R., O., C.



"You don't know.. what you're doing, doing, doing, doing.."

That's where you're wrong



I came into this motherfucker a hundred grand strong

Nine to be exact, from grindin G-packs

Put this shit in motion ain't no rewindin me back

Could make 40 off a brick but one rhyme could beat that

And if somebody woulda told 'em that Hov' would