Jay-Z - Dirt Off Your Shoulder - Sözleri

You're now tuned into the motherfucking greatest

Turn the music up in the headphones

Tim, you can go and brush your shoulder off nigga

I got you, yeah



[Chorus: Jay-Z]

If you feeling like a pimp nigga, go and brush your shoulders off

Ladies is pimps too, go and brush your shoulders off

Niggas is crazy baby, don't forget that boy told you

Get, that, dirt off your shoulder



[Verse One]

I probably owe it to you all, proud to be locked by the force

Trying to hustle some things, that go with the Porsche

Feeling no remorse, feeling like my hand was forced

Middle finger to the law, nigga griping my balls

All the ladies they love me, from the bleachers they screaming

All the ballers is bouncing they like the way I be leaning

All the rappers be hating, off the track that I'm making

But all the hustlers they love it just to see one of us make it

Came from the bottom the bottom, to the "Top of the Pops"

Nigga London, Japan and I'm straight off the block

Like a running back, get it man, I'm straight off the block

I can run it back nigga 'cause I'm straight with the Roc



[Chorus]



[Chorus Two]

You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder

You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder

You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder

You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder



[Verse Two]

Your homey Hov' in position, in the kitchen with soda

I just whipped up a watch, trying to get me a Rover

Trying to stretch out the coca, like a wrestler, yes sir

Keep the Heckler close, you know them smokers'll test you

But like, fifty-two cards when I'm, I'm through dealing

Now fifty-two bars come out, now you feel 'em

Now, fifty-two cars roll out, remove ceiling

In case fifty-two broads come out, now you chilling

with a boss bitch of course S.C. on the sleeve

At the 40/40 club, ESPN on the screen

I paid a grip for the jeans, plus the slippers is clean

No chrome on the wheels, I'm a grown-up for real



[Chorus + Chorus Two]



[Verse Three]

Your boy back in the building, Brooklyn we back on the map

Me and my beautiful beeeeeeeitch in the back of that 'Bach

I'm the realest that run it, I just happen to rap

I ain't gotta clap at 'em, niggas scared of that black

I drop that +Black, Album+ then I back, out it

As the best rapper alive nigga ask about me

From Bricks to Billboards, from grams to Grammies

The O's to opposite, Orphan Annie

You gotta pardon Jay, for selling out the Garden in a day

I'm like a young Marvin in his hey

I'm a hustler homey, you a customer crony

Got some, dirt on my shoulder, could you brush it off for me?



[Chorus + Chorus Two]



You're now tuned into the motherfucking greatest



Best rapper alive, best rapper alive





[Thanks to sasharay@prodigy.net, Kels44@cox.net, dustin_3@hotmail.com, Angelma4eva@hotmail.com, Luke Pech for correcting these lyrics]





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