Jay-Z & Phish: 99 Problems & Big Pimpin (live)

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Lyrics: 99 Problems
If you're havin' girl problems i feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one

[Verse One]
I got the rap patrol on the gat patrol
Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed
Rap critics they say he's "Money Cash Hoes"
I'm from the hood stupid, what type of facts are those
If you grew up with holes in ya zapatos
You'd be celebrating the minute you was havin' dough
I'm like fuck critics you can kiss my whole asshole
If you don't like my lyrics you can press fast forward
I got beef with radio if i don't play they show
They don't play my hits well i don't give a shit SO
Rap mags try and use my black ass
So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads, fuckers
I don't know what you take me as,
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
I'm from rags to ritches niggas I ain't dumb
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one
Hit me

[Chorus]
99 problems but the bitch aint one
If you're havin' girl problems i feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one

[Verse Two]
The year's '94 and my trunk is raw
In my rear view mirror is the mother fuckin' law
I got two choices y'all pull over the car or (hmmm)
Bounce on the devil put the pedal to the floor
Now I ain't tryin' to see no highway chase with Jake.
Plus i got a few dollars i can fight the case
So I...pull over to the side of the road
I heard "Son do you know why I'm stoppin' you for?"
Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hats real low?
Do I look like a mind reader sir, I don't know
Am I under arrest or should I guess some mo'?
"Well you was doin fifty-five in a fifty-fo' "
"Liscense and registration and step out of the car"
"Are you carryin' a weapon on you I know a lot of you are"
I ain't steppin out of shit all my paper's legit
"Well, do you mind if I look round the car a little bit?"
Well my glove compartment is locked so are the trunk in the back
And I know my rights so you gon' need a warrant for that
"Aren't you sharp as a tack, you some type of lawyer or something'?"
"Or somebody important or somethin'?"
Nah, I ain't pass the bar but i know a little bit
Enough that you won't illegally search my shit
"We'll see how smart you are when the K9 come"
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one
Hit me

[Chorus]
99 Problems but a bitch ain't one
if you havin girl problems
i feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one hit me

99 Problems but a bitch ain't one
if you havin girl problems
i feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one
Hit me

[Verse Three]
Now once upon a time not too long ago
A nigga like myself had to strong arm a hoe
This is not a hoe in the sense of havin a pussy
But a pussy havin no God Damn sense, try and push me
I tried to ignore him and talk to the Lord
Pray for him, cause some fools just love to perform
You know the type loud as a motor bike
But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight
The only thing that's gonna happen is I'ma get to clappin
He and his boys gon be yappin to the captain
And there I go trapped in the kit kat again
Back through the system with the riff raff again
Fiends on the floor scratchin again
Paparatzi's with they cameras snappin them
D.A. tried to give the nigga shaft again
Half-a-mil for bail cause I'm African
All because this fool was harrasin' them
Tryin to play the boy like hes saccarin
But ain't nothin sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
I got 99 problems beeing a bitch ain't one
Hit me

[Chorus X3]

You're crazy for this one Rick
It's your boy

Lyrics: Big Pimpin
You know I thug 'em, fuck 'em, love 'em, leave 'em
Cause I don't fuckin' need 'em
Take 'em out the hood
Keep 'em looking good
But I don't fuckin' feed em
First time they fuss I'm breezin'
Talking 'bout what's the reasons
I'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch
Better trust and believe 'em
In a cut where I keep 'em
'Til I need a nut
'Til I need to be (in) the guts
The it's beep-beep and I'm pickin 'em up
Let 'em play with the dick in the truck
Many chicks wanna put Jigga fist incuffs
Divorce him and split his bucks
Just because you got good head
I'mma break bread
So you can be livin' it up
Shit I part's wit nothin
Y'all be frontin'
Me give my heart to a woman
Not for nothin' never happen'
I'll be forever mackin'
Heart cold as assassins, I got no passion
I got no patience and I hate waitin'
Hoe get your ass in

Chorus 1
And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE
Check 'em out now
RI-I-I-I-I-IDE
Yeah
And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE
Check em out now
RI-I-I-I-I-IDE
Yeah

Chorus 2
We doin' big pimpin, we spendin' cheese (Check 'em out now )
Big pimpin'
On B.L.A.P.'s
We doin' big pimpin' up in NYC
It's just that Jigga-man, Pimp-C and B.U.N.B.
Check em out now
(Repeat)

Hook 1
Nigga it's the big southern rappin pimp Presario
Coming straight up out the black bar-io (bar-rio)
Makes a Mil up off a sorry hoe
Then sit back and peep my scenario
Oops, my bad, that's my scenario
No I can't fuck a scary hoe
Now every time, every place, everywhere we go
Hoe's start pointing and say "There he go!"
Now these muthafuckas know we carry more heat than a little bit
We don't pull it out over little shit
And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it won't be a little hit
Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch and step up your vocab
Don't be surprised if your hoe steps out wit' me
And you see us coming downon yo' slab
Livin' ghetto fabulous, so mad, you just can't take it
But nigga if you hate now, then you wait while
I get your bitch butt naked
Just break it
You gotta play like you ain't wet with two pairs of clothes on
Now get your ass to the back
As I fly to the track Timbaland let me spit my pro's on
Pump it up in the pro-zone
That's the track that we breaking these hoes on
Hate the track that we flow's on
But when the shit get's hot, then the glock start poppin' like ozone
We keep hoes crunk like Trigga-man
Who really don't get no bigger man
Don't trip, let's flip, then throw it on the flip
Then blow with the muthafuckin' Jigga-man
Fool

Chorus 2
We be big pimpin', spendin' cheese
We be big pimpin' on B.L.A.P.'s
We be big pimpin' down in PAT
It's just that Jigga-man, Pimp-C and B.U.N.B.

Cause we be big pimpin', spendin' cheese
We be big pimpin' on B.L.A.P.'s
We be big pimpin' down in PAT
It's just that Jigga-man, Pimp-C and B.U.N.B.
Nigga

Hook 2
Uh, smoky-eyed, torn up, keepin' it lit up in my cup
All my cars got leather and wood
In my hood, they call it buck
Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall
If he up, watch him fall
Nigga I can't fuck with y'all
If I wasn't rapping baby I would still be ridin' Mercedes
Chromin', shinin', sippin' daily
No rest until whitey pays me
Uh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys
Comin' down in candied toys, smokin' weed and talkin' noise

Chorus 2
We be big pimpin', spendin' cheese
We be big pimpin' on B.L.AP.'s
We be big pimpin' down in PAT
It's just that Jigga-man, Pimp-C and B.U.N.B.

Cause we be big pimpin', spendin' cheese
We be big pimpin' on B.L.A.P.'s
We be big pimpin' down in PAT
It's just that Jigga-man, Pimp-C and B.U.N.B.
Nigga

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