[Skit]
Aye, Purse, rack 'em up, man
What you bettin', Biggs?
Bet the same thing
Ayo, I got next, man
Yo, you got the money, man? You ass bettin' ass, nigga
The shit is right downstairs in the trunk
Don't trip; we parked right behind each other, nigga
I'ma get the shit before we go downstairs
Yeah, aight, what's up with that case, man?
Aw, man, it ain't nothin'
Ain't nobody snitching or nothing; you know our team is tight
Still sitting on seven digits, unlike you, you broke ass nigga
Fuck outta here, this cat right here
This broke ass, ass betting ass nigga
Betting five thousand ain't got no money
Chili cheese face ass nigga (Fuck outta here)
Sandy cake face ass nigga (Fuck outta here)
(Laughter)
[Intro: Sauce Money]
Ayo, Jay, word up
These motherfuckers fucking talking
That comeback shit like they cooking crack
Shit, I ain't fronting
All I want my pockets green like slum change
You know what I'm saying?
Front the roll we roll back like rubbers, motherfucker, for real
With no trace of AIDS
We keep our pockets fully blown
Roc-A-Fella clique, nigga
[Verse 1: Sauce Money]
Ayo, we patting down pussy from Sugar Hill to the Shark Bar
Fuck a bitch D in the marked car
We got the bad bitches gasping for air in Aspen
Searching for Aspirin when I ascend, we swing
You cling, we do our thing and bring
Sling your ding-a-ling from Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn to Beijing
East coast host is hostile colossal
Money flaring like nostrils for drug dealing apostles, huh
Al Pacino down to Nino Brown
Me, Jay and Preemo, got it sewed across the board like Pokeno
Teflon, make sure your jammy is full
'Cause I heard, Sammy the Bull lamps in Miami with pull
Tropical leaves where I got a few keys
With my man I'll stock a few G's, now it's unstoppable cheese
Said we was garbage, so fuck college
Street knowledge amazing to scholars when we coin phrases for dollars
Star studded bitches with crystals
Get fucked with pistols, just to see my shit, discharge puss
I drop the stellar, even acapella
I got to tell all about Roc-A-Fella
[Chorus: Fat Joe sample]
Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang
And if not then let me do my thing
Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang
And if not then let me do my thing
Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang
And if not then let me do my thing
Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang
And if not then let me do my thing
[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
Mannerisms of a young Bobby DeNiro, spent Spanish wisdoms
In a whip with dinero, crime organized like the Pharoahe
I cream, I diamond gleam
High post like Hakeem, got a lot of things to drop
Brooklyn to Queens, I got to keep my steam
Niggas wanna try to hem my long jeans
Uptown fiend for Jay-Z to appear on the scene
In the meanwhile, here's something dope for y'all to lean
Liaison for days on end
Money make the world go around so I made some to spend
Can I live? Did dough with my nigs, dividends flow
Like the Mississippi Riv', looking jig
Can't do for dolo, had to turn away when Tony killed Manolo
That's real, mixed feelings like a mulatto
Thug thought he was O.G. Bobby Johnson
I played him like Benny Blanco
Mano a mano, you ain't ready
I fondle triggers straight up
Shoot my guns horizontal, get your weight up
I am two-point-two pounds
You're barely a hundred and twenty-five grams
Wouldn't expect y'all to understand this money
Do the knowledge, due to few dollars, I'm due to demolish crews
Brooklyn through Hollis to a hood near you, what the fuck?
[Chorus: Fat Joe sample]
Bring it on if you think you can hang
[Verse 3: Big Jaz]
Money is power, I'm energetic with facial credit
Pure platinum fetish for cheddars
Spread lettuce, heroes get deadish
I make moves that remove pebbles out of shoes
You suck pistol like pipe with the crystal
John Stockton couldn't assist you
Convoys of Benzes like we fouling in the U.N
So what the fuck you doing?
Whatever, nigga, Fahrvergnügen, rugged yet polished
Spanking dollars with the commas
Banging bitches out the Bahamas
On hides of llama we cry nada, fly farther
Fry hotter, you die gotta, fuck with me witness mañana
Absence of malice in my palace
Call cousin now Dallas trigger finger with the callus
Tip scales from mail to keep these niggas off balance
Your frequent stops to O.T.B. you feeding me
Steam a nigga scheming on the wrist action with the gleams
Jewels for Pop Duke fulfill your dreams
Never put the pure brown sugar before the dirty green cream
[Chorus: Fat Joe sample]
Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang
And if not then let me do my thing
Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang
And if not then let me do my thing
Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang
And if not then let me do my thing
Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang
And if not then let me do my thing
Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on
Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on
Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on
Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on
Bring it on, if you think, if you think, if you think
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