Lyrics

This is a public service announcement Sponsored by Just blaze and the good folks at Roc-A-Fella Records Fellow Americans It is with the upmost pride and sincerity that I present this recording As a living testament and recollection of history in the making During our generation Allow me to re-introduce myself, my name is Hov (Oh) H-to-the-O-V, I used to move snowflakes by the O-Z I guess even back then you can call me C.E.O of the R-O-C, Hov Fresh out the frying pan into the fire I be the, music biz number one supplier Flyer than a piece or paper bearin' my name Got the hottest chick in the game wearin' my chain, thats right, Hov Not D.O.C, but similar to the letters, "No One Can Do it Better" I check cheddar like a food inspector My homie Strict told me, "Dude finish yo' breakfast" So that's what I'ma do, take you back to the dude With the Lexus, fast-forward the jewels and the necklace Let me tell you dudes what I do to protect this Shoot at you actors like movie directors This ain't a movie, dog (Oh, shit) Now before I finish Let me just say I did not come here to show out I did not come here to impress you Because to tell you the truth when I leave here I'm gone And I don't care what you think about me But just remember, when it hits the fan, brother Whether it's next year, ten years, twenty years from now You'll never be able to say that these brothers lied to you, jack Ving aint lie, I done came through the block in everything that's fly I'm like Che Guevara with bling on, I'm complex I never claimed to have wings on, nigga I get mine By any means on whenever there's a drough Get your umbrellas out because that's when I brainstorm You can blame Shawn, but I ain't invent the game I just rolled the dice trying to get some change And I'd do it twice, ain't no sense in me Lying as if I am a different man And I could blame my environment but There ain't no reason why I be buying expensive chains Hope you don't think users are the only abusers Niggas getting high within the game If you do then, how would you explain? I'm ten years removed, still the vibe is in my veins I gotta hustler spirit, nigga period Check at my hat, yo, peep the way I wear it Check at my swag, yo, I walk like a ball player No matter where you go, you are what you are player And you can try to change but that's just the top layer Man, you was who you was 'fore you got here Only God can judge me, so I'm gone Either love me, or leave me alone Now back to our regular scheduled program L'Album Noir, The Black Album
Writer(s): Shawn Carter, Raymond C Levin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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