Who You Wit 2

Uh-huh, yeah hah
Never sprung huh?
Jigga, Roc-a-Fella y'all
Never sprung huh?
Yeah, peep the repertoire
Peoples, feel me on this one
Peoples, feel this
Never sprung huh? Know my style

I love bitches, thug bitches, shy bitches
Rough bitches, don't matter you my bitches
Gold diggers witcha eyes on my riches
Can't knock your hustle for real, exotic bitches
I'm game tight, see it all through the platinum French
Frames with the French name in the same night
Pull you and your tight friend
Lift your little dress like light wind, hah, then I slide right in

You know the whole repertoire, U.S. to the U.S.S.R.
Sexin' in a Lexus car
Match wits with the best of y'all the rest of y'all
Is like vegetables in my presence, check it
Reminescin' to nuttin' you ever heard, Iceberg
Slim baby ride rims through the suburbs
Funds come in lump sums never ends deferred
Get money like I'm down south, Wednesday the 3rd, it's on

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with

Can't scheme on 'em, Roc-a-Fella got a team on 'em
Chicks dream on him trick cream on him
Lose it when dudes think it's just music
Lean on 'em, flash green on 'em and diamond rings on 'em
Sex around the way girls down to mida's
I'm somethin every girl gotta have like Levi's
Chiquita, me got more, see I brawl
You can love me or hate me, either or

I'ma stay winnin', rock the custom drop Bentleys
Never eat at Denny's and party like Lil Penny
Can he live? Trick or main chick but if she leave
Just as quick, Indian give, ha-hah
Now what I look like? Givin' a chick half my trap
Like she wrote half my raps, yeah, I'm havin' that
You be the same chick when you leave me
The bankbook and the credit cards and take everything you came with

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with

Here's somethin niggas gon' find, not at all funny
We takin' all ya bitches, takin' all ya money
Jay-Z rated A.G. baby that's all good
I sink this ball in your hole, I'm Tiger Woods
If the money was the grass and your ass was tee
When I hit it with this club love you comin' with me
Grip you right up under your ass, put your back on the wall
Kinda tipsy, seein' triple, so I'm fuckin' y'all
You remind me of this dream I had the night before
I'm kinda hopin' the condom break to have a reason to go raw

I'm playin', hit the showers, hit the money spot
Where all the models play and big money is dropped
Drop the top, let her feel the moonlight it entranced her
She jumped all in my seat like some private dancer
I tell you somethin' new, if you don't hop down off that
Butter soft shit with your shoes, I'ma step on the gas
She laughed, put her ass back in the proper place
She said, "I played my cards right and look I got the ace"
I told her, slow down baby
You dealin' with a baller, who, hold ground crazy it's on

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with

Dough to get, more shows to rip
I suggest you all roll with the click, who you with
Frozen wrists and it's flows that's sick
More O's than you know exist, bitch who you with

Beyatch! Fucka
Jigga, nine-seven shit, next millenia
Recognize, realize, it's on
Roc the block y'all
Laughing
It's on



Credits
Writer(s): Shawn C. Carter, Jeffrey H. Lorber, David Anthony Willis
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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