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success (a cappella) - jay-z lyrics

[interlude: jay*z]
i got these n*ggas, breezy, don’t worry about it
let that b*tch breathe!

[verse 1: jay*z]
i used to give a f*ck, now i give a f*ck less
what do i think of success? it sucks, too much stress
i guess i blew up quick
’cause friends i grew up with
see me as a premie, but i’m not, and my nuts big
i don’t know what the fuss is, my career is ill*strious
my rep is impeccable; i’m not to be f*cked with, with
sh*t, let that b*tch breathe!
i’m way too important to be talking about extorting
asking me for a portion’s like asking for a coffin
broad daylight i’ll off your on*switch
you’re not too bright, goodnight, long kiss
bye bye, my reply… “blah, blah”
blast burner, then pass burner to ty*ty
finish my breakfast, why?
i got an appetite for destruction and you’re a small fry
now where was i?

[break: jay*z]
let that b*tch breathe!
[verse 2: jay*z]
i used to give a sh*t, now i don’t give a sh*t more
truth be told i had more fun when i was p*ss*poor
i’m p*ssed off, and this what success is all about?
a bunch of n*ggas acting like b*tches with big mouths
all this stress, all i got is this big house
couple of cars, i don’t bring half of them sh*ts out
all of this ace of spade i drink just to p*ss out
i mean, i like the taste, could’ve saved myself 6 hours
how many times can i go to mr. chow’s, tao’s, n0bu?
hold up, let me move my bowels
i’ll sh*t on y’all n*ggas, og, tell these boys
(y’all ain’t got sh*t on my n*gga, aoww!)
i got watches i ain’t seen in months
apartment at the trump i only slept in once
n*ggas said hova was over, such dummies
even if i fell i’ll land on a bunch of money
y’all ain’t got nothing for me

[break: jay*z]
nas, let that b*tch breathe!

[verse 3: nas]
success, mclaren, women staring
my villain appearance
sacred blood of a king and my vein ain’t spilling
ghetto oth*llo, sugar hill romello
camaro driven, i climax from paper
then ask: “why is life worth living?”
is it to hunt for the sh*t that you want?
to receive’s great, but i l*st giving
the best jewelers wanna make my things
i make jacob sh*t on lorraine just to make me a chain
n*ggas mentioned on one love
came home to the paper in hand
ain’t gotta brag about the feds, young man
old cribs i sold, y’all drive by like monuments
google earth nas; i got flats in other continents
worst enemies wanna be my best friends
best friends wanna be enemies like that’s what’s in
but i don’t give a f*ck, walk inside the lion’s den
take everybody’s chips, ’bout to cash them in
up your catalog, dog, mine’s worth too much
like mike jacks atv pub, mottola can’t touch
let this b*tch breathe! (ha heh)
[outro: jay z & nas]
let this b*tch breathe!

- jay z lyrics

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