22 Two's

Yo, wassup everybody, this is Maria Davis, Mad Wednesdays We here tonight to have a good time (yo, start the show, start the show!) Wait a minute, I see my man over there, Jay-Z Jay-Z, Dame Dash, let me hear that lil' tape of yours, and it's phat Why don't you come up here and kick a lil' freestyle? Put that champagne down, and kick a lil' freestyle for me tonight (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) Y'all motherfuckers must've heard that track called, "Quest shit" Let's do it again Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) Well, I'm gone Check this out Too much West Coast dick lickin' And too many niggas on a mission, doin' your best Jay-Z rendition Too many rough motherfuckers, I got my suspicions That you're just fish in a pool of sharks, nigga, listen Too many bitches wanna be ladies, so if you a ho I'ma call you a ho, too many bitches are shady Too many ladies give these niggas too many chances Too many brothers wanna be lovers, don't know what romance is Too many bitches stuck up from too many sexual advances No question, Jay-Z got too many answers I been around this block too many times Rocked too many rhymes, cocked too many .9s, too To all my brothers, it ain't too late to come together 'Cause too much black and too much love, equal forever I don't follow any guidelines 'cause too many niggas ride mine So I change styles every two rhymes Hah, what the fuck That's 22 two's for y'all motherfuckers out there, you nah mean? Shall I continue? Check it out, what? Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!) Well, I'm gone Yeah, yeah, yeah Copped to reach my quota, push rock, roll up smooth like on ya Whole groove like hold-up, swoll up Too many faggot niggas clockin' my spendin' Exercisin' your gay-like minds like Richard Simmons If you could catch Jay right, on the late night Without the eight, right, maybe you could test my weight, right I dip, spit quicker than you ever seen Administer pain, next the minister's screamin' your name At your wake as I peek in, look in your casket Feelin' sarcastic, "Look at him, still sleepin'" You never ready, forever petty minds stay petty Mine's thinkin' longevity until I'm 70 Livin' heavenly, fuck, felony after felony, what? Nigga, you broke, what the fuck you going to tell me? Jay-Z, Jay-Z, now you know this is a phat track (aight) Now this is comin' on your new album On Roc-A-Fella records in '96? (No doubt, no doubt) Well, it is definitely the bomb But you know, I do wanna say somethin' to you I know you've been havin' a lot of problems with the law But I know you innocent, and I'm behind you one hundred percent Mad Wednesdays, Ruby King, DJ Ace, Dame Dash, Roc-A-Fella Records We all behind you, you can come back any time (hah, thanks a lot) Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute Ace, turn that music down, I smell some reefer Now you see? That's why our people don't have anything Because we don't know how to go in places and act properly (hey, shut the fuck up!) Wait a minute, wait a minute, who told me shut the eff up? Who told me to shut the eff up? Get him out of here I'm not gonna continue this show, until you throw him out Get him out right now, then I'ma continue my speech Thank you, he's out of here now, now like I was sayin' We gotta build our own businesses We gotta get our own record companies goin' like Roc-A-Fella Records We got to put money back into our own community