Politics As Usual Lyrics - Reasonable Doubt - Jay-z

You know how we do, Roc-a-Fella... forever... You can catch me 

skatin through your town puttin it down y'all relatin 

No waitin I'll make your block infrared hot I'm like Satan 

Y'all feel a nigga's struggle, y'all think a nigga love to 

hustle behind the wheel, tryin to escape my trouble 

kids stop they greetin me, I'm talkin sweet to keys 

Cursin the very God, that bought this wreath to be 

My life is, based on sacrifices, jewels like ices 

and fools that think I slip, you fuck around 

you get your guys hit, they built me to be filthy 

on some I-do-or-die shit, for real 

The price of leather's got me, deeper than ever and 

just think, with this here, I'm tryin to feel made nig-ga 

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Politics as us-ual... I took my 

Frito to Tito in the district, blessed me with some 

VS somethins I can live with, stop frontin 

And for the dough I raise, gotta get shit appraised 

No disrespect to you, make sure you word is true 

I'm takin wages down in Vegas just in case Tyson 

have a major night off, that's clean money, the tax write-off 

You ain't seen money in your life, when it 

comes to this cheese y'all like Three Blind Mice 

A smokin bro, who pump Willie Ike spokes 

The furthest you Chiles been is the Pocanos 

My portfolio reads: leads to Don Corleone, nigga please 

Ten year feleon, heavy on the wrist, our face used 

with the diamond blooded Jesus and blind your face 

youse for life... sharight, Jigga, I keep it tight nig-ga 

Photos 

Politics as us-ual... 

You feel my triumph never, feel my pain I'm lyin 

Low in the leather Zion, the best that's ever came 

The game changes like, my mind just ain't right 

We 'gwan get this dough, I guess it ain't your night 

Suckin me in like a vacumn, I remember 

tellin my family I'll be back soon, that was December 

Eighty-five and, Jay-Z rise ten years later 

got me wise still can't break my underworld ties 

I wear black a lot, in the Ac', act a lot 

Got matchin VCR's, a huge Magnavox 

to nitch, green like spinach pop wines that's vintage 

It's a lot of big money in my sentence 

Hittin towards a mil', lip a, written I kill like that 

chick faked me one-two cat, yeah, I do dat 

Ain't no stoppin the champagne from poppin 

the drawers from droppin, the law from watchin, I hate em 

Politics as us-ual