[Intro]
Back at’cha
How we do
Preemo, Jiggaman
History in the making
Let’s go
Ugh, uh-huh-uh-ugh
Uh-huh-uh-ugh, ugh
I spit the murder-murder-murderous
Muh-muh-muh-murderous shit
Uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-ugh
I keep it gangsta-gangsta-gangsta
Gah-gah-ga-gangsta, bitch! Feel me? Ugh
I spit that Brooklyn-Brooklyn-Brook
Uh-ugh, uh-huh-uh-ugh, uh-ugh, uh-huh-ugh
Yo
[Verse 1]
Career crook; nobody rep Brooklyn like me
Jiggaman, Volume 3: I’m back lookin’ like me
Stop the presses; baby girls, drop your dresses
BK, lick a shot for Big Pop’ in Heaven
Ever since I came through, niggas got the impression
Everything I drop, out of the question
Stop the guessing—it’s hot
Flows proving; I pack ’cause my dough’s moving
My whole crew up in this muh’fucker
We spray corners; stand there like you got a cape on you
Fine—you’ll be wearing a black suit a long time
I put your crew in hard-bottom
The priest is like, “God’s got him
He never did nothing to nobody, but them boys shot him”
Brandish iron, outlandish buying
Bentley Coupes—not bragging, just simply the truth
We all from the ghetto; only difference, we go back
Back up in D&D on this Preemo track—listen
[Chorus]
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
“Iceberg Slim, baby, ride rims”
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
“You know him well”
“By the name of Jigga”
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
“You can love me or hate me”
“Jay-Z”
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
“Roc-A-Fella”
“Lock the whole block down” (Ugh)
[Verse 2]
Wednesdays, I’m up in Shine; Cheetah’s, Monday night
I’m fucking with the model chicks Friday night at Life
So I’m cruisin’ in the car with this bougie broad
She said, “Jiggaman, you rich, take the do-rag off”
Hit a U-turn: “Ma, I’m dropping you back off”
Front of the club: “Jigga, why you do that for?”
Thug nigga ’til the end—tell a friend, bitch
Won’t change for no paper, plus I been rich
Eighty-eight, been hustling; linen, been crushing ’em
Women, been fucking ’em—huh?
You see, I live for the love of the street
Rap to the ruggedest beats, hall closet cluttered with heat
I spit that murder-murder-murder, that Brook-Brook-a-Brooklyn shit
Furthermore, ma—
We tote guns to the Grammys, pop bottles on the White House lawn
Guess I’m just the same old Shawn
[Chorus]
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
“Iceberg Slim, baby, ride rims”
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
“You know him well”
“By the name of Jigga”
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
“You can love me or hate me”
“Jay-Z”
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
“Roc-A-Fella”
“Lock the whole block down” (Check it out now)
[Verse 3]
I’m from the M-to-the-A-, baby, -R-C-Y
So it’s hard for me to let the larceny die
Niggas see me in the streets with no bodyguards
Just two big guns that’ll body your squad
‘Cause niggas be schemin’ on me—probably y’all
Think Jigga’s a joke, nigga? Hardy-har
I spit Brook-Brook-Brooklyn every time I bust
Radio’s gotta play me, though I cuss too much
Magazines said I’m shallow—I never learned to swim
Still, they put me on they cover ’cause I earn for them
Soon as I sell too much, watch them turn on him
‘Cause that seem to be the shit that’ll earn for them
I spit that murder-murder-murderous every time
A verbalist iller than Verbal Kint is, or O-Dog in Menace
I’m ill, start-to-finish, I rip apart contenders—I’m hot!
Hahahaha
[Chorus]
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
“Iceberg Slim, baby, ride rims”
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
“You know him well”
“By the name of Jigga”
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
“You can love me or hate me”
“Jay-Z”
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls fall in love with me
“Roc-A-Fella”
“Lock the whole block down” (Ugh, ugh)
[Outro]
I’m so gangsta, prissy chicks don’t wanna fuck with me
Ugh
I’m so gutter, ghetto girls… Hahaha
(Ugh, ugh, uh-huh-uh-ugh) Yeah
Ugh, yeah, bump, yeah
With me, yeah, biatch, yeah
Jigga, yeah, Preemo, yeah
Gangsta, yeah, niggas, yeah
Brooklyn, yeah
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