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Success (A Cappella)
par
JAY-Z
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I got these n***as, Breezy, don't worry about it Let that b*t*h breathe! I used to give a f**k, now I give a f**k less What do I think of success? It sucks, too much stress I guess I blew up quick 'Cause friends I grew up with See me as a premie, but I'm not, and my nuts big I don't know what the fuss is, my career is illustrious My rep is impeccable; I'm not to be f**ked with, with sh*t, let that b*t*h breathe! I'm way too important to be talking about extorting Asking me for a portion's like asking for a coffin Broad daylight I'll off your on-switch You're not too bright, goodnight, long kiss Bye bye, my reply... "BLAH, BLAH" Blast burner, then pass burner to Ty-Ty Finish my breakfast, why? I got an appetite for destruction and you're a small fry Now where was I? Let that b*t*h breathe! I used to give a sh*t, now I don't give a sh*t more Truth be told I had more fun when I was p*ss-poor I'm p*ssed off, and this what success is all about? A bunch of n***as acting like b*t*hes with big mouths All this stress, all I got is this big house Couple of cars, I don't bring half of them sh*ts out All of this Ace of Spade I drink just to p*ss out I mean, I like the taste, could've saved myself 6 hours How many times can I go to Mr. Chow's, Tao's, Nobu? Hold up, let me move my bowels I'll sh*t on y'all n***as, OG, tell these boys (Y'all ain't got sh*t on my n***a, aoww!) I got watches I ain't seen in months Apartment at the Trump I only slept in once n***as said Hova was over, such dummies Even if I fell I'll land on a bunch of money Y'all ain't got nothing for me Nas, let that b*t*h breathe! Success, McLaren, women staring My villain appearance Sacred blood of a king and my vein ain't spilling Ghetto Othello, Sugar Hill Romello Camaro driven, I climax from paper Then ask: "Why is life worth living?" Is it to hunt for the sh*t that you want? To receive's great, but I lust giving The best jewelers wanna make my things I make Jacob sh*t on Lorraine just to make me a chain n***as mentioned on One Love Came home to the paper in hand Ain't gotta brag about the Feds, young man Old cribs I sold, y'all drive by like monuments Google Earth Nas; I got flats in other continents Worst enemies wanna be my best friends Best friends wanna be enemies like that's what's in But I don't give a f**k, walk inside the lion's den Take everybody's chips, 'bout to cash them in Up your catalog, dog, mine's worth too much Like Mike Jacks ATV pub, Mottola can't touch Let this b*t*h breathe! (Ha heh) Let this b*t*h breathe!
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