Jay-z - THRT (The End) lyrics

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, n***a I'll k** ya, I'll chop ya up Put ya inside the mattress like drug money n***a Yeah, I done told you n***az 9 or 10 times stop f**in' with me I done told you n***az 9 albums, stop f**in' with me I done told you n***az the 9 on me, stop f**in' with me You n***az 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 sh** 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, d**h to y'all You can't k** 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 n***a them body-snatchers, n***a 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 n***a stop f**in' with me R I P That's right there n***a, n***a I'm wild n***a I keep trash bags with me Never know when you gotta dump a n***a out This sin-surr, this some sin-surr sh** 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 n***az, 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 bu*ton Front of all you in your car lift up your hood n***a 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 n***az 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, n***a God bless you I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the mornin' Put your smarts on the side of your garment n***a stop f**in' 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, n***a I been makin' threats Since I been in kindergarten n***a Huh, ask about me, see if you ain't heard When the gun is tucked, untucked, n***a 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 n***a 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 k** you, commit suicide, and k** 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 n***a stop f**in' with me R I P Whattup? Motherf**er I keep three motherf**ers what? n***a I'll throw a Molotov co*ktail Through your momma's momma's house n***a what the, where everybody live Undercover n***a take your teeth out your mouth n***a Chew your food up and put the sh** back In your mouth n***a and help you swallow n***a I take a mop handle off n***a And sweep n***a, hold on, I'll be n***a what?