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99 problems - jay-z lyrics

if you havin’ girl problems, i feel bad for you, son
i got 99 problems, but a b-tch ain’t one

i got the rap patrol on the gat patrol
foes that wanna make sure my casket’s closed
rap critics that 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 your [zapatos]
you’d celebrate the minute you was havin’ dough
i’m like, f-ck critics; you can kiss my whole -sshole
if you don’t like my lyrics, you can press fast forward
got beef with radio if i don’t play they show
they don’t play my hits; well, i don’t give a sh-t, so
rap mags try and use my black -ss
so advertisers can give ’em more cash for ads, f-ckers
i don’t know what you take me as
or understand the intelligence that jay-z has
i’m from rags to riches, n-gg-s; i ain’t dumb
i got 99 problems, but a b-tch ain’t one; hit me

99 problems, but a b-tch ain’t one
if you havin’ girl problems, i feel bad for you, son
i got 99 problems, but a b-tch ain’t one; hit me

the year is 94, in my trunk is raw
in my rearview mirror is the motherf-ckin’ law
got two choices, y’all: pull over the car or [(hmm…)]
bounce on the devil; put the pedal to the floor
and 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 what i’m stoppin’ you for?”
cause i’m young and i’m black and my hat’s 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-four
license 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 sh-t; all my paper’s legit
“well, do you mind if i look around the car a little bit?”
well, my glove compartment is locked, so is 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 somethin’, somebody important or somethin’?”
child, i ain’t p-ssed the bar, but i know a little bit
enough that you won’t illegally search my sh-t
“well, we’ll see how smart you are when the canine comes”
i got 99 problems, but a b-tch ain’t one; hit me

99 problems, but a b-tch ain’t one
if you havin’ girl problems, i feel bad for you, son
i got 99 problems, but a b-tch ain’t one; hit me

now once upon a time, not too long ago
a n-gg- like myself had to strongarm a hoe
this is not a hoe in the sense of havin’ a p-ssy
but a p-ssy havin’ no godd-mn sense; try and push me
i try to ignore him, talk to the lord
pray for him, but some fools just love to perform
you know the type, loud as a motorbike
but wouldn’t bust a grape in a fruit fight
and only thing that’s gon’ happen is i’ma get to clappin’ and
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
paparazzis with they cameras, snappin’ them
d.a. try to give a n-gg- shaft again
half a mill’ for bail cause i’m african
all because this fool was har-ssin’ them
tryin to play the boy like he’s saccharin
but ain’t nuttin sweet, ’bout how i hold my gun
i got 99 problems; bein’ a b-tch ain’t one; hit me

99 problems, but a b-tch ain’t one
if you havin’ girl problems, i feel bad for you, son
i got 99 problems, but a b-tch ain’t one; hit me

whoo
whoo
uh, uh
havin’ girl problems? i feel bad for you, son
i got 99 problems, and a b-tch ain’t one.

ha-ha. you crazy for this one, rick. this is your boy!

- jay z lyrics

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