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Lyrics for Face Off by Jay-Z:
| | | Artist: | Jay-Z |
| | Album: | In My Lifetime Vol. 1 | | Track: | Face Off | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 146 | | | | Lyrics: | Jay Z (Sauce)***}
Jay Z talking: Sauce mothafuckin jigga jigga feel this...
Chorus
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel
me
(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these
hoes
(This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel
me)
If ya feel me (Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these
hoes)
Verse 1
Yeah (If ya want some put ya guns up it's on)
Ladies know
that when the sun's up I'm gone
(Fuck them bitches though digits though)
Fuck, now
if I bring it niggas know whaat
(All black gat with the mack out)
I take shorty to
the rest blow her back out
sun dress undress throw her back out (biotch)
(in & out
like a crack house) keep it moving
(Face off with the .38 scraped off)
keep shorty
maced can't throw a 4-4 eight ball
know your place (so it starts when ya least expect)
(the yeast infect) you don't imitate bitches
(piece protected) so I hear you hate
bitches?
(love the dough, ya flow irritate niggas)
fuck them though, it's all out
and
have a fall out I fucked ya girl
(On top now we call out fuck the world)
(Face Off!)
Chorus
(This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the
air if ya feel
me)
If ya feel me (Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love
these
hoes)
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if
ya feel
me
(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these
hoes
Verse 2
(I apologize ladies I'm lovin' ya right)
you
must be used to me trickin' but we fuckin' tonight
(No wine no dine) no wheelin' the whip
all night long just feelin' the dick be-i-itch
(Sauce mothafuckin' slayin' I'm sayin'
with no delayin')
(Can you beat that? I eat that) you just playin'
nigga you neva
know what a chick could do
(pull the trigga too) check the shit jigga do
(My crew)
mackin' the same bitch (I do)
(back man stack grands) daddy like I you
(Love them
hoes jigga?) Ha how that sound?
women start to fall we all bat around
Let my whole
team hit it (scatter 'round)
you never seen wit it (pat 'em down)
check for cream in
it (These riches)
got nu'hin to do wit these bitches
(Nothin' y'all can do to stop
these digits)
(Face Off!)
Chorus
This goes out to my Brooklyn crew
put ya guns up in the air if ya feel
me
(If ya feel me) Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em
all night we don't love these
hoes
(This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya
guns up in the air if ya feel
me)
If ya feel me (Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night
we don't love these
hoes)
Verse 3
(Can I touch that?) what's that?
Leave it for dead.
Keep ya arm over ya face my nigga (keep ya head)
(keep a mind to
survive if ya sleep ya dead)
Stay fly 'til ya die nigga deep with prayer
(with each
word ya say I guess the beef is dead)
Ladies & gentlemen (like impeach the Prez)
(Val Kilmer style nigga draw heat with feds)
(broad day like De Niro shoot all day)
I'm the man fuckin' the tracks and you just foreplay
get a hit I, I come through, blow up,
you spit out
What keep it cocked faithfully like salop
with one in the drop don't
get hit up
(I be the 4-5th flamer hoes bitch shamer)
(clap cats a snitch she'll give
ya whole click name up)
Look I done came up (and) thought a whole game up
meet me in
the square with one in the chamber
(The Face Off nigga)
Chorus
This
goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel
me
(If ya feel me)
Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these
hoes
(This goes out
to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel
me)
If ya feel me (Fuck 'em
all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these
hoes)
This goes out to my
Brooklyn crew put ya gun up (in the air) if ya feel
me
Fuck 'em all day (fuck 'em
all night) we don't love these hoes
<"Track Masters" is whispered softly 8X in
background>
(This goes out... put ya guns up in the air) if ya feel me if ya feel
(Fuck 'em all day fuck 'em all night we don't love these hoes) Yeah!!
This goes out
(to my Brooklyn crew | | | |
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