VERSE OF THE MONTH/ JAY-Z
VERSE OF THE MONTH
WHAT IT FEEL LIKE
Scorpion bricks, way before Aubrey's double disc
.40 on my lap, clap, sound like 40 did the mix
Feel the bass, sniff coke like a Michelin star chef
Chef kiss to my wrist, I go dummy with my left
IRS on my dick tryna audit all my checks, it's too late
You know they hate when you become more than they expect
You let them crackers storm your Capitol, put they feet up on your desk
And yet you talkin' tough to me, I lost all my little respect
I'm sellin' weed in the open, bringin' folks home from the feds
I know that payback gon' be mean, I'm savin' all my little bread
Pray for me, y'all, one day I'ma have to pay for these thoughts
Real niggas is extinct, it ain't safe for me my dawg
They killin' niggas in their own hood, that make sense to you at all?
You burnt your bridge to the other side, you know you can't swim across
Y'all know niggas can't swim, they found Mike after he died
Y'all know niggas can't win, you'll never land, all jokes aside
I arrived on the day Fred Hampton got mur—, hol' up
Assassinated, just to clarify it further
What y'all gave birth is the chairman mixed with Jeff Fort
Big stepper on the jet with my legs crossed
Black stones on my neck, y'all can't kill Christ
Black messiah is what I feel like
Shit ain't gonna stop 'cause y'all spilled blood
We gon' turn up even more since y'all killed cuh
