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  Youtube video na: Jay-Z-Threat
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  Text skladby: Jay-Z-Threat
Yo once a pimp gets threats That\'s right, that\'s the the that\'s, that\'s threats them And I\'m serious about mine, I\'m so sin-surr And I, nigga I\'ll kill ya, I\'ll chop ya up Put ya inside the mattress like drug money nigga
Yeah, I done told you niggaz 9 or 10 times stop fuckin\' with me I done told you niggaz 9 albums, stop fuckin\' with me I done told you niggaz the 9 on me, stop fuckin\' with me You niggaz must got 9 lives, 9th wonder
Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya Am I frightenin\' ya? Shall I continue? I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song I let it hum to ya, the other one sing along
Now it\'s a duet, and you wet, when you check out The technique from the 2 tecs and I don\'t need two lips To blow this like a trumpet you dumb shit This is a un-usual musical I conductin\'
You lookin\' at the black Warren Buffett so all critics can duck sic I don\'t care if you C. Delores Tuck-it Or you Bill O\'Reilly, you only rilin\' me up For three years, they had me peein\' out of a cup
Now they \'bout to free me up, whatchu think I\'m gon\' be, what? Rehabilitated, man I still feel hatred I\'m young black and rich so they wanna strip me naked, but You never had me like Christina Aguiler-y
But catch me down the Westside, drivin\' like Halle Berry Or the FDR, in the seat of my car Screamin\' out the sunroof, death to y\'all You can\'t kill me, I live forever through these bars
I put the wolves on ya, I put a price on your head The whole hood\'ll want ya, you startin\' to look like bread I send them boys at ya, I ain\'t talkin\' bout Feds Nigga them body-snatchers, nigga you heard what I said
I make \'em wait for you \'til five in the mornin\' Put your smarts on the side of your garment Nigga stop fuckin\' with me R I P
That\'s right there nigga, nigga I\'m wild Nigga I keep trash bags with me Never know when you gotta dump a nigga out This sin-surr, this some sin-surr shit right here
Grown man I put hands on you, I dig a hole in the desert They build The Sands on you, lay out blueprint plans on you We Rat Pack niggaz, let Sam tap dance on you Then, I Sinatra shot ya God damn you
I put the boy in the box like David Blaine Let the audience watch, it ain\'t a thang Y\'all wish I was frontin\', I George Bush the button Front of all you in your car lift up your hood nigga run it
Then lift up your whole hood like you got oil under it Your boy got the goods, y\'all don\'t want nuttin\' of it Like, castor oil, I Castor Troy you Change your face or the bullets change all that for you
Y\'all niggaz is targets, y\'all garages for bullets Please don\'t make me park it in your upper level Valet a couple strays from the 38 special, nigga God bless you
I make \'em wait for you \'til five in the mornin\' Put your smarts on the side of your garment Nigga stop fuckin\' with me R I P
Yeah I\'m threatenin\' ya, yeah I\'m threatenin\' ya Who you thank you dealin\' with? They call me Chris, nigga I been makin\' threats Since I been in kindergarten nigga Huh, ask about me, see if you ain\'t heard
When the gun is tucked, untucked, nigga you dies Like numchuks held by the Jet L-I I\'m the one, thus meanin\' no one must try No two, no three, no four, know why?
Because one\'s four-five might blow yo\' high You ain\'t gotta go to church to get to know yo\' God It\'s a match made in heaven when I \'splay the 7 Put you on the nigga news, UPN at 11
Where you been, you ain\'t heard, got the word that I\'m That I\'m so sin-surr? I\'m especially Joe Pesci with a grin I will kill you, commit suicide, and kill you again, that\'s right
I make \'em wait for you \'til five in the mornin\' Put your smarts on the side of your garment Nigga stop fuckin\' with me R I P
Whattup? Motherfucker I keep three motherfuckers what? Nigga I\'ll throw a Molotov cocktail Through your momma\'s momma\'s house Nigga what the, where everybody live
Undercover nigga take your teeth out your mouth nigga Chew your food up and put the shit back In your mouth nigga and help you swallow Nigga I take a mop handle off nigga And sweep nigga, hold on, I\'ll be nigga what?