If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
Got 'em Mike
He's got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol
Foes that wanna make sure his casket's closed
Rap critics that say he's, "Money, Cash, Hoes"
He's from the hood stupid, what type of facts are those?
If you grew up with holes in your zapatoes
You'd celebrate the minute you was havin' dough
So fuck critics, you can kiss the whole asshole
If you don't like the lyrics, you can press fast forward
Got beef with radio if we don't play they show
They don't play our hits, we don't give a shit, so
All these mags try and use our ass
So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads, fuckers
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I don't know what you take us as
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
From, rags to riches, we ain't dumb
We got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
Now the year is ninety-four, in my trunk is raw
In the rear view mirror is the motherfuckin' law
I got two choices y'all, pull over the car or
Bounce on the Devil, put the pedal to the floor
And I ain't tryin to see no highway chase with Jake
Plus I got a few dollars, I can fight the case
So I, pull over to the side of the road, I heard
Son, do you know why I'm stoppin' you for?
Photos
'Cause I'm young and I'm black
And my hat's real low
Or do I look like a mind reader sir? I don't know
Am I under arrest or should I guess some mo'?
Well, you was doin' fifty-five in the fifty-four
License and registration and step out of the car
Are you carryin' a weapon on you?
I know a lot of you are
I ain't steppin' out of shit, all my papers legit
Well, do you mind if I look around the car a little bit?
Well, my glove compartment is locked, so is the trunk in the back
And I know my rights, so you gon' need a warrant for that
Aren't you sharp as a tack, you some type of
Lawyer or somethin', somebody important or somethin?
Ha, I ain't passed the bar, but I know a little bit
Enough that you won't illegally search my shit
Well, we'll see how smart you are when the canines come
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
Now once upon a time, not too long ago
A nigga like myself had to strongarm a hoe
This is not a hoe in the sense of havin' a pussy
But a pussy havin' no goddamn sense, try an' push me
I try to ignore him, talk to the Lord
Pray for him, but some fools just love to perform
You know the type, loud as a motorbike
But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight
And only thing that's gon' happen is I'ma get to clappin' and
He and his boys gon' be yappin' to the Captain
And there I go, trapped in the Kit-Kat again
Back through the system with the riff-raff again
Fiends on the floor, scratchin' again
Paparazzi's with they cameras, snappin' them
D.A. try to give a nigga shaft again
Half a mill' for bail 'cause I'm African
All because this fool was harassin' them
Tryin' to play the boy like he's saccharin'
But ain't nuttin' sweet bout how I hold my gun
I got 99 problems B and a bitch ain't one
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one
If you havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
Shut up when I'm talkin' to you
Shut up, shut up, shut up
Shut up when I'm talkin' to you
Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up
I'm about to break
Everything you say to me
(I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me)
I need a little room to breathe
(I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me)
Everything you say to me
(I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me)
I need a little room to breathe
(I got 99 problems)
And I'm about to, break