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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
JAY-Z
Lead Vocals
Stanley Clarke
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Shawn Carter
Songwriter
Stanley Clarke
Songwriter
August Moon
Songwriter
Tyrone Thomas
Songwriter
Michael Garson
Songwriter
Raymond Gomez
Songwriter
Gerald Brown
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Just Blaze
Producer
Gimel "Young Guru" Keaton
Recording Engineer
Doug Wilson
Mixing Engineer
Tony Dawsey
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Intro]
So I had to memorize these rhymes until I got home, you understand?
So, and they'll do— you know
Once you memorize a sentence, it's like an exercise
Y'all **** can't be serious right now
I'm the all-time heavyweight champion of flowers
I'm leading the league in at least six statistical categories right now (Woo)
Best flow, most consistent, realest stories
Most charisma
I set the most trends
And my interviews are hotter
Holla
[Verse 1]
I jog in the graveyard, spar in the same ring
That was housed by the building where Malcolm X was slain
I spring train in the winter, 'round early December
Run suicide drills over and over
With the weight of the world on my shoulder
That's why they call me Hova
I'm far from being God, but I work goddamn hard
I wake up the birds, so when the nerds asleep
I'm catching my second wind the second the first one ends
I am focused, man
And I'm not afraid of death, I'm going all out
I circle the vultures in a van, and
I run the block, pull up in a drop (Run, pull up)
Push up on my money, I'm in great shape, dunny (Push up, woo)
I keep jacks jumping, thirty-six sets
Like a personal trainer, I teach coke to stretch
I pump in Roc sweats, all-white trainers
The ghetto's Billy Blanks, I show you **** what pain is
Maintain your stamina, Hov will damage ya
Spot you two rhymes, y'all **** is amateurs
The fifth a deadlift
If **** don't wanna get shot, then y'all **** better squat
I drop your set for rep
No need to hit the showers, the spit from the fifth leave you wet
Lyrical exercise
Y'all **** ain't tired, right?
[Chorus]
One, one, two, two, three, three, four
Breathe easy
One, one, two, two, three, three, four
Breathe easy
One, one, two, two, three, three, four
Breathe easy
One, two, three, four
Breathe easy
[Verse 2]
Suckers, get your weight up, not your hate up (Uh)
Jigga Man is diesel when I lift the eight up
Y'all ain't ready to workout with the boy
Your flow is brain on drugs, mines is rap on steroids
I lift every voice when I sing, my ability
Make yours look like an exercise in futility (Woo)
Bring your squad, biceps, triceps, and quads
We don't struggle with undeveloped muscles
Y'all ain't real, that's y'all Achilles' heel
Same routine when you see me, you know the drill
I spot ya
I lift the weight of the watch off your arm, remain nice and calm
Put down your things
Trinidad of the game, know my way around your ring
No matter how many pounds you bring
It sounds like the same old thing
R-O-C is the strongest team, fuckers
[Chorus]
One, one, two, two, three, three, four
Breathe easy
One, one, two, two, three, three, four
Breathe easy
One, one, two, two, three, three, four
Breathe easy
One, two, three, four
Breathe easy
Written by: August Moon, Gerald Brown, Jerry Layo Brown, Michael Garson, Raymond Gomez, Shawn Carter, Stanley Clarke, Tyrone Thomas