Face Off

[Intro: Jay-Z] Sauce motherfuckin' Jigga, Jigga, feel this... [Chorus: Jay-Z & Sauce Money] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night We don't love these hoes This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night We don't love these hoes [Verse 1: Jay-Z, Sauce Money & Both] Yeah, get ya ones up (put ya guns up) it's on Ladies know that when the sun's up I'm gone Fuck them bitches though, digits though Fuck, now if I bring it niggas know whaat All black out with the MAC out I take shorty to the rest blow her back out Sun dress undress (throw her back out) biatch (In and out like a crack house) Keep it moving Face off with the .38 scraped off Keep shorty laced caked off, off an 8-ball Know your place Sauce scorch when ya least expect it, yeast infected You don't imitate bitches (Piece protected) So I hear you hate bitches? Love the dough (Ya flow irritate niggas) Fuck them though, it's all out Have a fall out, I'll fucked ya girl On top now we call out fuck the world Face off! [Chorus: Sauce Money & Jay-Z] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night We don't love these hoes This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night We don't love these hoes [Verse 2: Jay-Z, Sauce Money & Both] I apologize ladies, I'm lovin' ya right You must be used to me trickin' but we fuckin' tonight (No wine no dine) no wheelin' the whip All night long just feelin' the dick be-i-itch (Sauce motherfuckin' slayin' I'm sayin' with no delayin') (Can you beat that? I eat that) you just playin' Nigga you never know what a chick could do (Pull the trigger too) check the shit Jigga do (My crew) mackin' the same bitch (I do) (Back plans stack grands) daddy like I you (Love them hoes, Jigga?) Ha, how that sound? Women start to fall we all bat around Let my whole team hit it (scatter 'round) You never seen with it (pat 'em down) Check for cream in it (these riches) Got nu'hin to do with these bitches Nothin' y'all can do to stop these digits Face off! [Chorus: Jay-Z & Sauce Money] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night We don't love these hoes This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night We don't love these hoes [Verse 3: Jay-Z & Sauce Money] (Can I touch that?) What's that? Leave it for dead Keep ya arm over ya face my nigga (keep ya head) Keep a mind to survive if ya sleep ya dead Stay fly 'til ya die nigga deep with prayer With each word ya say I guess the beef is dead Ladies & gentlemen (like impeach the Prez) Val Kilmer style nigga draw heat with Feds Broad day like De Niro shoot all day I'm the man fuckin' the tracks and you just foreplay Get a hit I, I come through, blow up, you spit out What up? Keep it cocked faithfully like salop With one in the drop don't get hit up (I be the 4-5th flamer) and (hoes bitch shamer) what! Clap cats, a snitch'll give ya whole click name up Look I done came up (and) tore a whole game up (right) Meet me in the square with one in the chamber The face off, nigga [Chorus: Jay-Z & Sauce Money] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night We don't love these hoes This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night We don't love these hoes This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up (in the air) if ya feel me Fuck 'em all day (fuck 'em all night) We don't love these hoes [Outro] This goes out... put ya guns up in the air If ya feel me Fuck 'em all day, fuck 'em all night We don't love these hoes Yeah! This goes out (to my Brooklyn crew)