Intro: 2000, and it goes like. (uh huh, yeah yeah)
Chorus: this goes out to my brooklyn crew
Lay my game flat, what you wanna do
Talk all night, are we gonna screw?
Im talking bout me and you
Verse one: sauce money
I like to push up on chicks like its the last record
Take em to the telly get buck passed naked
Let em feel the power, lick em if it dont taste sour
Hit em in the shower for an hour
Give em that feeling, sauce money for real and
Let her get on top if theres mirrors on the ceiling
Hit her so right that she wanna throw rice
My device makes her say "damn, that niggas nice!"
Know I got wifey lay my cards when I pivot
Pass your seven digits if youre with it
Sauce wanna give you the option for the boot knockin
Nine times outta ten its on and poppin
Aint no stopping victorys in the air
Bring a friend next time lets do it again
Bring your whole crew if you see through me
And we can meet on the bqe
And it goes like
Chorus (2x)
Verse two: sauce money, jay-z
Sauce money:
Had this bitch bragging,
Sauce had his tongue between my thighs lally-gaggin;
Huh, could you imagine
Shaking your tail just like a dragon here comes my worse flame
In the morning hot 97 the first thing
(deny it) hell yeah yall dont buy it
I dont eat no kind of fish if you cant fry it
But who knows maybe one day Ill try it
But for now slow down too much lip is killin your diet
Jay-z:
Can I get it what - get it wet
When he hit it first can I get it next, shit you the best
It aint wack to be with both of us, mami actually
Im eddie kane jr., that nigga me!
You want me to feel what he feel when its tight
And I know, he dont be doing it right
But it gets no liver than this, never lie on our dicks
Shit, we got niggas rides on our wrists
Play your cards right youll be driving the 6
Shopping all day hoppin out in the dist.
Popping the crist., shit hoppin outta your wrist
Popping your shit, new yorks hottest bitch
>from the ghetto to the stillettos
But you gotta do it two times like an echo, yall feelin that
This is how we run it down the line
Nigga sauce goes first jigga next to rhyme
Chorus (2x)
Verse three: jay-z, sauce money
Jay-z
I see you got a lot to get off your chest
Coat, blouse, bra-dont talk me to death
Like murders on your mind mami, off the dress
Jigga ran game til I lost my breath
Sauce money
Last thing I need to know is what it costs for sex
What you need to know is if I lost respect
Dont have to worry if you do sauce correct
Ima bless that, bring my whole crew through, dont even sweat that
Jay-z: uh, dime pieces Im hittin
Sauce money: four in the morning frosted flakes in your kitchen
Jay-z: now you want me to start trickin I suppose
Sauce money: thats when the first face off kicks in-
"we dont love these hoes!"
Chorus (2x)
