Snoopy Track

[Intro: Jay-Z] Bounce Uhhh, ha, uhhh, ha Uhhh, uh-huh-uh-uhhh, uhh, uh-huh This for my hustlers.. uh-huh And for the bitches.. yeah [Verse 1: Jay-Z] Yo, yo This is for my niggas down in Houston on candy paint All my niggas in the Dirty South, Miami mayne All my niggas in the A-T-L throwin' dem bows All them thugs that send slugs through your clothes; holla at me! It's for the black culture, Spanish chicks with the sweet chocha Spanish cats with the keys of coca All the haters eat a dick, they wanna see you brok-er I hope the heat stroke ya, the misery is over All my deep smokers, I hope the leaf choke ya Hope you'll never be sober, I'ma toast to myself I hope the Cris' get me, spiralin' into a tizzy So pissy, swervin' on the road dizzy May God protect my soul, angels walk with me First do the flow sickly, niggas is so shifty The fo'-fo' is like a force field, you won't get me I brought some folk with me, Brooklyn is loc'n with me What the fuck? [Chorus: Juvenile] You know, we ride All day, all night Pop Cris', shoot dice Fuck hoes, for life You know, we ride All day, all night Pop Cris', shoot dice Fuck hoes, for life [Verse 2: Jay-Z] This is for my chicks that get dough for takin' off they clothes All them money makin' honies that slide down the poles All my educated chicks who grade is 4.0 All the baby mamas across the globe; ayo I like my women friends feminine I like my hoes on "X" like Eminem Shit, I like em bow-legged, never coke-headed With a dough fetish, the drive to go get it I like they toes proper, I like they clothes Prada I like they shoes Gucci, I like new coochie I fucked a few groupies, in a few hoopties I got 'em Iceberg shit they thought I knew Snoopy I cop them Rocawear, my mamis dedicated They never tell me no, the most they said is "not here" I got they ears studded, both wrists baguetted I got a main chick, a mistress, and a young bitch Forget it, I'm the don [Chorus: Juvenile] You know, we ride All day, all night Pop Cris', shoot dice Fuck hoes, for life You know, we ride All day, all night Pop Cris', shoot dice Fuck hoes, for life [Verse 3: Jay-Z] Wha-what? This is for my dice shooters, cats doin' life By the time I get this kite to ya, I hope you doin' alright Who got 'em platinum up? Who got the chicks in the truck? Too much to sit comfortably, they lappin' up Who shit is big pimpin'? See the flow different I drop heavy then I let the four-fifth flip 'em I keep rappers talkin' to kids, Jigga Sixth Sense'd 'em Don't mention my name and lames in the same sentence You see I'm so thorough, take on your whole borough Be so careful I hear the whistle from the fo'-fo' barrel Keep the flow Hova; icy neck, cold shoulder Who click is closest to La Costra Nostra? It's The Roc [Chorus: Juvenile] You know, we ride All day, all night Pop Cris', shoot dice Fuck hoes, for life You know, we ride All day, all night Pop Cris', shoot dice Fuck hoes, for life You know, we ride All day, all night Pop Cris', shoot dice Fuck hoes, for life