Bring It On song by JAY-Z from Primary Album Album not found. The music is composed and produced by Joel. Genre is Gangsta Rap, Rap, Hardcore Rap music. The Record company is unknown. Released on None.
video was originally posted on: Youtube
Bring It On Meaning
| [[Skit] Aye, Purse, rack ’em up, man What you bettin’, Biggs? Bet the same thing Ay, yo, I got next, man Yo, you got the money, man? You ass bettin’ ass, nigga The shit is right downstairs in the trunk Don’t trip; we parked right behind each other, nigga I’ma get the shit before we go downstairs Yeah, aight, what’s up with that case, man? Aw, man, it ain’t nothin Ain’t nobody snitchin or nothin; you know our team is tight Still sittin on seven digits, unlike you, you broke ass nigga Fuck outta here, this cat right here This broke ass, ass bettin ass nigga Bettin five thousand ain’t got no money Chili cheese face ass nigga (fuck outta here) Sandy cake face ass nigga (fuck outta here) (Laughter) [Intro: Sauce Money] Ayo, Jay, word up These motherfuckers fucking talking That comeback shit like they cooking crack Shit, I ain’t fronting All I want my pockets green like slum change You know what I’m saying? Front the roll we roll back like rubbers, motherfucker, for real With no trace of AIDS We keep our pockets fully blown Roc-A-Fella clique, nigga , [Verse 1: Sauce Money] Ayo, we patting down pussy from Sugar Hill to the Shark Bar Fuck a bitch D in the marked car We got the bad bitches gasping for air in Aspen Searching for Aspirin when I ascend, we swing You cling, we do our thing and bring Slinging your ding-a-ling from Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn to Beijing East coast host is hostile colossal Money flaring like nostrils for drug dealing apostles, huh Al Pacino down to Nino Brown Me, Jay and Preemo, got it sewed across the board like Pokeno Teflon, make sure your jammy is full ‘Cause I heard, Sammy the Bull lamps in Miami with pull Tropical leaves where I got a few keys With my man I’ll stock a few G’s, now it’s unstoppable cheese Said we was garbage, so fuck college Street knowledge amazing to scholars when we coin phrases for dollars Star studded bitches with crystals Get fucked with pistols, just to see my shit, discharge puss I drop the stellar, even acapella I got to tell all about Roc-A-Fella [Chorus: Fat Joe sample] Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang And if not then let me do my thing Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang And if not then let me do my thing Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang And if not then let me do my thing Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang And if not then let me do my thing , [Verse 2: Jay-Z] Mannerisms of a young Bobby DeNiro, spent Spanish wisdoms In a whip with dinero, crime organized like the Pharoahe I cream, I diamond gleam High post like Hakeem, got a lot of things to drop Brooklyn to Queens, I gotta keep my steam Niggas wanna try to hem my long jeans Uptown fiend for Jay-Z to appear on the scene In the meanwhile, here’s something dope for y’all to lean Liaison for days on end Money make the world go around so I made some to spend Can I live, did dough with my nigs, dividends flow Like the Mississippi Riv’, looking jig Can’t do for dolo, had to turn away when Tony killed Manolo That’s real, mixed feelings like a mulatto Thug thought he was O.G. Bobby Johnson I played him like Benny Blanco, mano a mano You ain’t ready, I fondle trigger straight up, shoot my guns Horizontal, get your weight up, I am Two point two pounds You’re barely a hundred and twenty five grams Wouldn’t expect y’all to understand this money Do the knowledge, due to few dollars, I’m due to demolish Crews Brooklyn through Hollis to a hood near you, what the fuck? [Chorus: Fat Joe sample] Bring it on if you think you can hang , [Verse 3: Big Jaz] Money is power, I’m energetic with facial credit Pure platinum fetish for cheddars Spread lettuce, heroes get deadish I make moves that remove pebbles out of shoes You suck pistol like pipe with the crystal John Stockton couldn’t assist you Convoys of Benzes like we fouling in the U.N So what the fuck you doing? Whatever, nigga Fahrvergnügen, rugged yet polished Spanking dollars with the commas Banging bitches out the Bahamas On hides of llama we cry nada, fly farther Fry hotter, you die gotta, fuck with me witness mañana Absence of malice in my palace Call cousin now Dallas trigger finger with the callus Tip scales from mail to keep these niggas off balance Your frequent stops to O.T.B. you feeding me Steam a nigga scheming on the wrist action with the gleams Jewels for Pop Duke fulfill your dreams Never put the pure brown sugar before the dirty green cream [Chorus: Fat Joe sample] Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang And if not then let me do my thing Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang And if not then let me do my thing Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang And if not then let me do my thing Yeah, bring it on if you think you can hang And if not then let me do my thing Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on Yeah, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on Bring it on, if you think, if you think, if you think] |
