Jay-z Interview Lyrics - Hitstory - Hit-boy

All these niggas really know my at bat average, 

ridiculous rap patterns 

And fuck what you know, this Youngen got the coldest beats 

All my old hoes laying in the coldest sheets 

Even if they married they still can't get over me 

You 0 for 3 

, I'm shooting a hundred right from the field now 

I'm just a Fresh Prince, buzzing like Uncle Phil's child 

And I Will style, peace to all my Hilary's 

Stuffin' money in banks, 

hitting Marilyn's like a Kennedy 

And if you feeling me, just let me know it 

'Cos I just set the stage and get these words off like a poet 

I'm Robert Frost cold on these hoes, I just give them the 

Edgar Allen Poe up 

Sippin something expensive and party 'till they throw up 

All my niggas roll up, until the cops show up 

My momma says momma's son is a millionaire" 

And just for that, throw your ones up in the air 

This is Freshman Adjustment meets Late Registration 

Connected up with the kings all 'cos of Ricky's relations 

Tell the nigga I've been studying since I started creating 

Now all these niggas is hating, waiting, judging, debating 

Tryin' to charge me with a flagrant, but I will not stop 

They tryin' to Derek Fisher the boy, but I will not flop 

Instead I take it bassline, like Kobe 

And I play my own drums and basslines, you know me, homie 

I'm getting courted by the bosses 

The Ye's, the Hov's, the Puff's, and all them nigga's who's notorious for flossing 

Known to be in places these niggas ain't never heard of 

and watched thrones up in the Mercer 

Sign my signature in cursive for them incidentals 

Then we got fucked up off that 

Ace 

listening to instrumentals 

I came a long way from that place where niggas can't wait to get you 

And now you copped your favorite mag and I'm in the latest issue 

And all the bitches I could never bag, they steadily claiming they miss you 

And it's a shame when I get the low-fade 

Have all these women feeling like the fourth grade 

Crushin on a Youngen, 'cos they know I'm so paid 

Once I get the digits consider me so laid 

And none of this shit is fiction cos really I don't play 

I changed up my old ways, to kill 'em like OJ 

Remind them of a young Mike, fresh J's and a gold chain 

I stay tailored like politicians, but fuck like I'm out on bond 

Women catching feelings trying to be my first son mom 

But I'm catching millions tying to be the first one on 

And my CD, do you feel me, 

if you coming, come on 

IE nigga, I'm a IE nigga 

Went from Colton High School to the widescreen nigga 

Couldn't walk in my shoes or jog by me nigga 

Since I play by my rules I acquired these figures 

Now a nigga got enough to supersize, ride with him 

No surprise, all these Benjamins inside my denim 

Couldn't be the nigga sitting on the sideline benching 

Open minds will be the ones to oblige my vision 

Televise my mission, on channel 5, see me in the news 

They monitor my every move, wanna see me lose 

Hear the shit I spit like "what the fuck has gotten into you?" 

I got 'em tuned in like a Jay-Z interview 

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