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  • 20 Bag Shorty **UNRELEASED**
    • Jay-z
      Posted Sep 15, 2003 2:11 AM

      Artist: Jay-Z f/ Boo & Gotti
      Album: Only available in single format in Europe (Not released in America)
      Song: 20 Bag Shorty
      Typed by: DRsillest@aol.com *

      * send corrections to the typist

      [Jay-Z]
      No more reason I gotta prove to be da illest MC
      Somthing's wrong wit ya motor skills cause y'all ain't movin me
      I'm who you see musically when you want it done hot
      Comparin' you to me is a lesson in futility stop
      I paint pictures beautifully but niggaz is near sighted
      Don't worry about plagerist it'll take em years to bite it
      Which the greatest fears I don't write it
      It just appears outta nowhere like the information contain by the physic
      Like it or not I pay dues and expect to be paid back
      Why da fuck should I freestyle I'm gettin paid to rap
      I sling a track laid back almost till it's a sin
      Tell ya god somebody's doin a good job impersonatin' him
      J-Hova spittin game from da range rover
      What tha fuck is y'all doin in da third lane get over
      Slow ya rode up I got it sewed up like a tella
      Relatively easy like jerry hella
      Cream is cherry vanilla got chicks in da telli
      Belly up soundin like mayhelia tryna tell y'all
      Y'all know da style burn da town
      Down and change the locale I'm doin da same shit except its legit

      [Chorus: repeat 2X]
      Got a twenty cart shorty better play that shit
      You owe me twenty baby better pay that shit
      Got twenty bag son better blaze that shit
      They said I wasn't seeing twenty but I made dat shit

      [Gotti]
      Pimp Gotti get da dues in them double down
      Like them kids with tips who tops down
      Bricks who get money quick see me
      representin bomb city on da bill block rockin' mic's
      Before they get a mill I sold pills all night
      The illest outta life got my mind on fate
      Cause even on tour nigga still ain't safe
      I keep a tre eight on my left smoke a L for stress countin dirt bag lex
      I be da X like malcom puff for now dunn east side represent wit tons of guns
      You keep it real where you from
      Cause where you at might put da dagger in yo back
      Its like livin wit yo homey that be on crack
      And fact my niggaz know my styles phat like hoes in da El Dorado
      My mind toatin fuck em duck em
      Any thing but da main gun I don't trust em

      [Chorus]

      [Boo]
      Move wit da nigga huh from man chilla
      Burge shit word shit I slpurge big scrilla
      Observe when you work spit bird shit killah
      Not to be purterb with...herb shit deala
      Can make me feel y'all foreal ya tock ticking
      Bust a rapper bust a cap hustler stop flinching
      You fresh off the corner calling dog shit brog shit
      Soon as you feel that sog shit you be like oh shit (stoooooop)
      Broke niggaz resort the glass looking
      Opposite the track ass whooping
      Opposite the black class hooker the fat ass fooker
      Triple your cash criple your stash pass shooker
      The past ain't never the last to teach lessons
      My peeps fucking up in the streets keep guessing
      Brew don't becomming a preach I be blessing
      Lotta kids commmin out da wrong way like sea sections
      Know da bro gone flow even if it cross shorts
      Fuck weed cop coke cause da shit cost more
      But niggaz say I floss to much
      but when I take it off and such they say I lost my touch
      Those bitches like the money I wear
      What its funny how they stare
      Dumb bunnies with they cunnin' little glare
      Shorty let me see the tail if its really that shittin
      She hit me with a felion a young pair kitten
      My boy hit that shit now every body smitten
      Even holdin snow balls and I ain't talkin bout mittens
      what I talkin bout mittens foreal

      [Chorus]
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