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Jay-Z - Magna Carta Holy Grail Album Lyrics

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Magna Carta Holy Grail Album
by  Jay-Z


Jay-Z - Magna Carta Holy Grail Lyrics



  1. Holy Grail
  2. Picasso Baby
  3. Tom Ford
  4. Fuckwithmeyouknowigotit
  5. Oceans
  6. F.U.T.W.
  7. Somewhereinamerica
  8. Crown
  9. Heaven
  10. Versus
  11. Part II (On The Run)
  12. Beach Is Better
  13. BBC
  14. JAY Z Blue
  15. La Familia
  16. Nickels And Dimes


Holy Grail

[ Featuring Justin Timberlake ]

You'd take the clothes off my back, and I'd let you
You'd steal the food right out my mouth
And I'd watch you eat it, I still don't know why
Why I love you so much, oh
You curse my name
In spite, to put me to shame
Hang my laundry in the streets
Dirty or clean
Give it up for fame
But I still don't know why (don't know why)
Why I love it so much, yeah

And baby
It's amazing I'm in this maze with you
I just can't crack your code
One day you're screaming you love me loud
The next day you're so cold
One day you're here, one day you're there
One day you care, you're so unfair
Sipping from your cup 'til it runneth over, Holy Grail

Uh, Blue told me remind you niggas
Uh, f*ck that shit y'all talkin' about, I'm the nigga
Uh, caught up in all these lights and cameras
Uh, but look what that shit did to Hammer
Uh, goddammit I like it
Bright lights is enticing
But look what it did to Tyson
All that money in one night
Thirty mill for one fight
But soon as all that money blows
All the pigeons take flight
F*ck the fame, keep cheatin' on me
What I do, I took her back, fool me twice that's my bad
I can't even blame her for that
'Nough to make me wanna murder, mama please just get my bail
I know nobody to blame
Kurt Cobain, I did it to myself, uh

And we all just entertainers
And we're stupid, and contagious
Know we all just entertainers

And baby
It's amazing I'm in this maze with you
I just can't crack your code
One day you're screaming you love me loud
The next day you're so cold
One day you're here, one day you're there
One day you care, you're so unfair
Sipping from your cup 'til it runneth over, Holy Grail

Now I got tattoos on my body
Psycho bitches in my lobby
I got haters in the paper, photo shoots with paparazzi
Can't even take my daughter for a walk
See 'em by the corner store
I feel like I'm cornered off
Enough is enough, I'm calling this off
Who the f*ck I'm kidding though?
I'm getting high, sittin' low
Sliding by in that big body
Curtains all in my window
This fame hurt but this chain worse
I think back you asked the same person
If this is all you had to deal with
Nigga deal with it, this shit just ain't work, this light work
Camera snapping, my eyes hurt
Niggas dying back where I was birthed
F*ck your iris and the IRS
Get the hell up off your high horse
You got the shit that niggas die for
Dry yours, why you mad take the good with the bad
Don't throw that baby out with that bath water you're still alive
Still that nigga nigga, you survived
Still getting bigger nigga living the life
Vanilla wafers in a villa, illest nigga alive
Michael Jackson thriller

And baby
It's amazing I'm in this maze with you
I just can't crack the code
One day you're screaming you love me loud
The next day you're so cold
One day you're here, one day you're there
One day you care, you're so unfair
Sipping from your cup 'til it runneth over, Holy Grail

You get the air out my lungs, whenever you need it
And you take, the blade right out my heart
Just so you can watch me bleeding, I still don't know why (don't know why)
Why I love you so much
Yeah
And you play this game, in spite, to drive me insane
I got it tattooed on my sleeve forever in ink, with guess whose name
But I still don't know why
Why I love you so much
Yeah

And baby
It's amazing I'm in this maze with you
I just can't crack your code
One day you're screaming you love me loud
The next day you're so cold
One day you're here, one day you're there
One day you care, you're so unfair
Sipping from your cup 'til it runneth over, Holy Grail

Don't know why
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Krist Anthony Novoselic, David Eric Grohl, Ernest Dion Wilson, Shawn C. Carter, Timothy Z. Mosley, Kurt D. Cobain, Terius Youngdell Nash, Justin R. Timberlake, Leslie Jerome Harmon
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.



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Picasso Baby

I just want a Picasso, in my casa
No, my castle
I'm a hassa, no I'm a asshole
I'm never satisfied, can't knock my hustle
I wanna Rothko, no I wanna brothel
No, I want a wife that f*ck me like a prostitute
Let's make love on a million, in a dirty hotel
With the fan on the ceiling, all for the love of drug dealing
Marble Floors, gold Ceilings
Oh what a feeling, f*ck it I want a billion
Jeff Koons balloons, I just wanna blow up
Condos in my condos, I wanna row of
Christie's with my missy, live at the MoMA
Bacons and turkey bacons, smell the aroma

Oh what a feeling
Picasso Baby, Ca Picasso baby
Ca ca Picasso Baby, Ca ca Picasso baby
Oh what a feeling
Picasso Baby, Ca Picasso baby
Ca ca Picasso Baby, Ca ca Picasso baby

It ain't hard to tell
I'm the new Jean Michel
Surrounded by Warhols
My whole team ball
Twin Bugattis outside the Art Basel
I just wanna live life colossal
Leonardo Da Vinci flows
Riccardo Tisci Givenchy clothes
See me throning at the Met
Vogueing on these niggas
Champagne on my breath, yes
House like the Louvre or the Tate Modern
Because I be going ape at the auction
Oh what a feeling
Aw f*ck it I want a trillion
Sleeping every night next to Mona Lisa
The modern day version
With better features
Yellow Basquiat in my kitchen corner
Go ahead lean on that shit Blue
You own it

Oh what a feeling
Picasso Baby, Ca Picasso baby
Ca ca Picasso Baby, Ca ca Picasso baby
Oh what a feeling
Picasso Baby, Ca Picasso baby
Ca ca Picasso Baby, Ca ca Picasso baby

I never stuck my cock in the fox's box but
Damned if I ain't open Pandora's box
They try to slander your man
On CNN and Fox
My Mirandas don't stand a chance, with cops
Even my old fans like old man just stop
I could if I would but I can't
I'm hot, and you blow
I'm still the man to watch, Hublot
On my left hand or not
Soon I step out the booth
The cameras pops niggas is cool with it
Till the canons pop
Now my hand on the Bible
On the stand got your man in a jam, again
Got my hands in cuff
I'm like god damn enough
I put down the cans and they ran amok
My hairpin pierce skin, ruptures spleens
Cracks ribs, go through cribs, and other things
No sympathy for the king, huh?
Niggas even talk about your baby crazy
Eventually the pendulum swings
Don't forget America this how you made me
Come through with the 'Ye mask on
Spray everything like SAMO
I won't scratch the Lambo
What's it gon take
For me to go
For you to see
I'm the modern day Pablo
Picasso baby
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ADRIAN YOUNGE, CHRIS GODBEY, GARLAND WAVERLY MOSLEY, JEROME HARMON, SHAWN C CARTER, TIMOTHY Z. MOSLEY, TOMMASO COLLIVA
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP



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Tom Ford

[Intro]
Clap for a nigga with his rapping ass
Blow a stack for your niggas with your trapping ass
Clap for a nigga with his rapping ass
Blow a stack for your niggas with your trapping ass
Tom Ford
Tom Ford
Tom Ford

[Verse 1]
Coming up, coming down
Riding clean fix your head in my crown
Bad bitch, H town
Keep it trill y'all know y'all can't f*ck around
Paris where we been
'Pard my Parisian
It's Hov time in no time
It's f*ck all y'all season
It's Bordeauxs and Burgundies
Flush out a Riesling
When's Hov's out, those hoes out
Y'all put y'all weaves in
Clap for a nigga with his rapping ass
Blow a stack for your niggas with your trapping ass
Spent all my euros
On tuxes and weird clothes
I party with weirdoes
Yeah Hov, yeah Hov

[Hook]
I don't pop molly
I rock Tom Ford
International bring back the Concorde
Numbers don't lie check the scoreboard
Tom Ford
Tom Ford
Tom Ford
Tom Ford
Tom Ford

[Verse 2]
Hands down got the best flow
Sound I'm so special
Sound boy burial
This my Wayne Perry flow
Y'all know nothing about Wayne Perry though
District of Columbia
Guns on your Tumblrs
F*ck hashtags and retweets nigga
140 characters in these streets nigga
Pardon my laughing y'all only flagging on beats nigga
Pardon my laughing I happen to think you sweet

[Hook]
I don't pop molly
I rock Tom Ford
International bring back the Concorde
Numbers don't lie check the scoreboard
Tom Ford
Tom Ford
Tom Ford
Tom Ford
Tom Ford

[Outro]
Coming up, coming down
Riding clean fix your head in my crown
Bad bitch, H town
Keep it trill y'all know y'all can't f*ck around
Coming up, coming down
Riding clean fix your head in my crown
Bad bitch, H town
Keep it trill y'all know y'all can't f*ck around
I don't pop molly, I rock Tom Ford
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Chris Godbey, Garland Mosley, Jerome Harmon, Marcos Castellon, Shawn Carter, Timothy Mosley
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP, THE ADMINISTRATION MP INC



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Fuckwithmeyouknowigotit

[ Featuring Rick Ross ]

"A little over a year ago I was in bondage
And now I'm back out
Here, reaping the blessings
And getting the benefit's that go along with
It everything that's out here for kings
Like us the reason why we
Like this this jewelry and this diamonds
And stuff they don't understand, it's
Because we really from Africa and
That's where all this
Stuff come from and we originated from kings
You know what I'm saying? So don't look
Down on the youngsters because they wanna
Have shiny things it's in our
Genes, know what I'm saying? We just
Don't all know our history, so..."

F*ck with me, you know I got it
F*ck with me, you know I got it
Sexy bitch, I hope she 'bout it
Come f*ck with me, you know I got it
F*ck with me, you know I got it
F*ck with me, you know I got it
Sexy bitch, I hope she 'bout it
Come f*ck with me, you know I got it

I just landed in Europe, nigga
Shoppin' bags, I'm a tourist, nigga
Money talk, I speak fluent, nigga
Reeboks on, I just do it, nigga
Look at me, I'm pure, nigga
I bet the hoes on my tour, nigga
I don't bop, I do the money dance
My bitch whip cost a hundred grand

Red vert, you see me slide
Sexy bitch, I hope she 'bout it
Sexy bitch, I know she 'bout it
F*ck with me, you know I got it

F*ck with me, you know I got it
F*ck with me, you know I got it
Sexy bitch, I hope she 'bout it
Come f*ck with me, you know I got it
F*ck with me, you know I got it
F*ck with me, you know I got it
Sexy bitch, I hope she 'bout it
Come f*ck with me, you know I got it

Hov just landed in Rome, nigga
All hail, Caesar's home, niggas
Cent'anni, ciao bella
Come money dance with the good fellas
Hov keep gettin' that dinero, got it
Even if a nigga gotta rob it, get it?
Black Jack in a casino
A nigga got unlimited credit, uh
A nigga got a lot of vendettas, uh
But we the Black mob, we gon' set it, uh
Peel off in a Lamborghini Countach
200 in the dash, we gonna rev it (skirt)
Lucky Luciano is what they call me, paesano
A 100 keys at the piano
Plays across the Verrazano
El Padrino, in the villa in Venice
Sippin' vino not bad for a mulignan
Y'all know like we know, I got it

F*ck with me, you know I got it
F*ck with me, you know I got it
Bad bitch, I hope she 'bout it
F*ck with me, you know I got it
F*ck with me, you know I got it
F*ck with me, you know I got it
Bad bitch, I hope she 'bout it
Bad bitch, I know she 'bout it
I'm ridin' big, comin' down that beach
Geechi niggas with satin sheets
Bad bitch, she a masterpiece
Got a bad bitch, she a master peace
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: MATTHEW SAMUELS, RICK ROSS, ANDERSON HERNANDEZ, SHAWN CARTER
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.



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Oceans

[ Featuring Frank Ocean ]

[Intro]
Blessings, blessings yeah

[Hook: Frank Ocean]
I see elephant tusk on the boar of a sailing lady
Docked on the Ivory Coast
Mercedes in a row winding down the road
I hope my black skin don't dirt this white tuxedo
Before the Basquait show and if so
Well f*ck it, f*ck it
Because this water drown my family
This water mixed my blood
This water tells my story
This water knows it all
Go ahead and spill some champagne in the water
Go ahead and watch the sun blaze
On the waves
Of the ocean

[Verse 1: Jay-Z]
Dope boy still smelling like cocaina
White boat, white robe
Can he be more cleaner
The oil spill that BP ain't clean up
I'm anti Santa Maria
Only Christopher we acknowledge is Wallace
I don't even like Washingtons in my pocket
Black card go hard when I'm shopping
Boat dock in front of Hermes picking cotton
Silk and fleeces, lay on my Jesus
Oh my God, I hope y'all don't get sea sick
See me in shit you never saw
If it wasn't for these pictures they wouldn't see me at all
Aww, whole world in awe
I crash through glass ceilings, I break through closed doors
I'm on the ocean, I'm in heaven
Yachting, Ocean 11

[Hook: Frank Ocean]

[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
Me and Ty Ty is like Pablo and Popeye
Winding dirt roads on mopeds spilling opus
Welcome to the magnum opus
The Magna Carta
The best-selling author Decoded
On the holiday playing "Strange Fruit"
If I'mma make it to a billi I can't take the same route
Swoosh
Now that's the sound of the border
Swoosh
Now that's the sound of a baller
Muhammad Hovi my back against the rope, the black Maybach
I'm back inside the boat
Shepard Fairey they finally gave me some hope
Can't believe they got a nigga to vote
Democrat, nope
I sold dope
In trouble water I had to learn how to float
On the ocean
I'm in heaven
Yachting
Ocean 11

[Hook: Frank Ocean]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SHAWN CARTER, PHARRELL WILLIAMS, FRANK OCEAN
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., ST MUSIC LLC, BMG Rights Management



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F.U.T.W.

[Intro]
Just let me great, just let me great
I feel like mothaf*ckin' Cassius Clay right now, Genius!
Don't be good my nigga, be great
After that government cheese, we eating steak
After the projects, now we on estates
I'm from the bottom, I know y'all can relate

[Hook]
F*ck up the world
Let's f*ck up this world
F*ck up the world
Me and destiny got a date

[Verse 1]
Martin had a dream, Hov gotta team
My chain already heavy, don't let me get a ring
Parades down Flatbush, Confetti on my fur
Turn right on Red Hook, niggas heavy on the curve
See most of my niggas died early twenties or late teens
I'm just trying to come from under the thumb of this regime
1% of a billion more then niggas even seen
Still they wanna act like it's an everyday thing, clean

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
High Yellow sky dweller and the rose gold
Legend of the summer in the Rose Bowl
Came thru Pasadena in the low low
Just to show respect to the chulos
Feel like a stranger in my own land
Got me feeling like Brody in Homeland
I just want my shot to show my genius
Standing on the top hold my penis
America tried to emasculate the greats
Murder Malcolm, gave Cassius the shakes
Wait, tell them rumble young man rumble
Try to dim your lights tell you be humble
You know I'm gon shine like a trillion watts
You know a nigga trill as Michael Jackson socks
Send a light to Compton and the hundred blocks
Lil bastard boy, basking on top

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Sipping D'USSE boy this ain't your daddy yak
He in a Cadillac; me? I'm in the Maybach
This ain't grey sweat suits and white tube socks
This is black leather pants and a pair of stance
Socks is my synopsis is clear
Got stripclubs feeling like Oxford, I swear
Teacher teacher, I trying to unteach ya
All the shit they taught y'all, they got you all in the bleachers
When you front row at the Knicks game, those the Spike Lees
You front row every where, you in the H.O.V's
Jordan 1's and dungarees
And that's just the half of my warpath
Make a million another million let my niggas make a million
'til we all check a billion, shit it's just the way I'm feeling
We have yet to see a ceiling, we just top what we top
Cause the bars don't struggle and the struggle don't stop

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JAMES MASSIE, JEROME HARMON, SHAWN CARTER, TIMOTHY MOSLEY
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP



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Somewhereinamerica

Shout out to old Jews and old rules
New blacks with new stacks
I already been the king
Retro act, I'm just bringing it back like Jordan Packs
New money, they looking down on me
Blue bloods they trying to clown on me
You can turn up your nose high society
Never gone turn down the homie
Knock knock I'm at your neighbor house
Straight cash I bought ya neighbor out
You should come to the housewarming
Come and see what your new neighbor 'bout
Yellow Lambo in the driveway
A buck thirty-five, I'm on the highway
Frank Sinatra on my Sonos
Loud as f*ck, I did it my way
A million sold before the album dropped
White Lexus before I had a deal
Ask Bun B about me
This ain't no snap back, a nigga been trill
By the way, f*ck your math
You ain't gotta count it my nigga I can add
1 million, 2 million, 3 million, 20 million
Oh, I'm so good at math
Might crash ya Internet
And I ain't even into that
When I was talking Instagram
Last thing you wanted was your picture snapped
Feds still lurking
They see I'm still putting work in
'Cause somewhere in America
Miley Cyrus is still twerkin'

Twerk, twerk, twerk, twerk
Twerk, Miley, Miley, twerk
Twerk
Twerk, Miley, Miley, Miley, twerk
Twerk, yeah, ugh-huh
Twerk, Miley, Miley, Miley
Only in America
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Johnny Guitar Watson, Chauncey A. Hollis, Shawn C. Carter, Darhyl Jr. Camper, Michael G. Dean
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.



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Crown

[Intro: Sizzla]
They can't keep a gooda man down
Always keep a smile when they want me to frowns
Keep the vibes and they stood my grounds
They will never ever take my crown
Who Jah bless I say no man curse
Things gettin' better when they thought it would be worse
Here comes the officers askin' for a search
They found no weapon just only a draw of herbs

[Verse 1: Jay-Z]
You in the presence of a king
Scratch that, you in the presence of a God
Put in the belly of the beast
I escaped, a nigga never had a job
Scott Boras, you over baby
Robinson Cano, you coming with me
These niggas is like rotary phones
It's a new day, hit up KD
Niggas always try to knock a nigga down
Knock me to my knees about a million times
Uncle said I'll never sell a million records
I sold a million records like a million times
These niggas shouldn't let me in
I ball so hard on ESPN
See my name come across on CNN
'Bout 6 minutes, you gonna see it again
'Bout 6 minutes, you gonna see me again

[Hook 2x: Travi$ Scott]
Shit on me
These niggas tried to shit on me
I was left for dead
They tried to wipe me out of your history

[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
Bulletproof glass, glass roof like the Pope
Bulletproof love, Niggas down since the yolk
Bitch asked if I was God
F*ck I'm supposed to say, "no"
You already seen me turn a man to a G.O.A.T.
You already know what I could do with the coke
Drop it in the water, made it disappear
I made it reappear, I had that bitch on a rope
I make my roof get ghost
Bottom grill, I make my tooth get gold
All the shit did, I wasn't supposed to live
Hallelujah Hov
Wasn't for the 'caine wouldn't be able
Wasn't for the bread, probably be dead
Best friends become ya enemies
Niggas' knives are double-edged

[Hook 2x]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Kirk Bennett, Miguel Orlando Collins, Shawn Carter, Bobby Dixon, Jacques Webster, Michael Dean
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group



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Heaven

[Intro]
Have you ever?
Have you ever?

[Hook: x2]
Have you ever been to heaven? Have you ever seen the gates?
Have you bow down to your highness? And do you know how heaven taste?
Lie me down

[Verse 1]
Arm, leg, leg, arm, head - this is God body
Knowledge, wisdom, freedom, understanding - we just want our equality
Food, clothing, shelter - help a nigga find some peace
Happiness for a gangsta, ain't no love in the streets
Conspiracy theorist screaming Illuminati
They can't believe this much skill is in the human body
He's 6'2, how the f*ck he fit in a new Bugatti?
Aw f*ck it you got me
Question religion, question it all
Question existence until them questions are solved
Meanwhile this heretic I be out in Marrakesh
Morocco smoking hashish with my fellowship
Y'all dwell on devil shit, I'm in a Diablo Yellow shit
Color of Jello-O shit
Hello bitch, it's me again
Fresh in my Easter clothes feeling like Jesus and

[Hook: 2x]

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion

[Verse 2]
Getting ghost in the Ghost
Can you see me?
Can you see me?
Have mercy on a Judas, angels wings on a 'ghini
I'm secular, tell the hecklers seckle down
Y'all religion creates division
Like my Maybach partition n
God is my chauffeur

Boy they loves Hova
From the south side of Chi
To Brooklyn where I growed up I confess
God in the flesh
Live among the serpents
Turn arenas into churches
I'm like Michael recycle, these are not 16s
These are verses from bible
Tell the preacher he's a preacher
I'm a motherf*cking prophet, smoke a tree of knowledge
Drink from a gold chalice, you gotta love it
I arrive at pearly gates, I had luggage
Meaning I had baggage
Niggas asking me questions, I don't answer to these busters
Only God could judge us, motherf*ckers

[Hook: 2x]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ADRIAN YOUNGE, MICHAEL STIPE, PETER BUCK, SHAWN CARTER, JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE, MICHAEL MILLS, TERIUS NASH, TIMOTHY MOSLEY, JEROME HARMON, WILLIAM THOMAS BERRY
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP



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Versus

Hey sucka nigga
Where ever you are
I thought about ya fool
While I was driving my car

I wonder if you fools
Realize how far
You are
You're no where in my rear mirror

Your last shit ain't better
Than my first shit
Your best shit
Ain't better than my worst shit

The truth in my verses
Versus
Your metaphors
About what your net worth is
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SHAWN CARTER, KASSEEM DEAN, KAMAAL IBN JONATHAN DAVIS FAREED, ALI SHAHEED JONES-MUHAMMAD, MALIK IZAAK TAYLOR, FREDDIE HUBBARD, BRUNO SPOERRI
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP, GOPAM ENTERPRISES INC



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Part II (On The Run)

[ Featuring Beyoncé ]

Who wants that perfect love story anyway, anyway?
Cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché
Who wants that hero love that saves the day, anyway?
Cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché

What about the bad guy goes good, yeah?
And the missing love that's misunderstood, yeah
Black hour glass, hour glass, toast to clichés in a dark past
Toast to clichés in a dark past

Boy meets girl
Girl perfect woman
Girl, get to bustin' before the cops come running, uh
Chucking deuces, chugging D'USSE, uh
F*ck what you say, boys in blue say, uh

I don't care if we on the run
Baby, 'long as I'm next to you
And if loving you is a crime
Tell me why do I bring out the best in you? Oh
I hear sirens while we make love
Loud as hell but they don't know
They're nowhere near us
I will hold your heart and your gun
I don't care if they come, no
I know it's crazy but
They can take me
Now that I found the places that you take, take me
Without you I got nothing to lose

I'm an outlaw, got an outlaw chick
Bumping 2Pac, on my outlaw shit
Matching tatts, this ink don't come off
Even if rings come off
If things ring off
My nails get dirty
My past ain't pretty, my lady is, my Mercedes is
My baby mama harder than a lot of you niggas
Keep it 100, hit the lottery niggas
You ain't about that life ain't gotta lie to me, nigga
You know it's 'til the death, I hope it obvi' to niggas
Uh, cross the line, speak about mine
I'ma wave this TEC, I'ma geek about mine
Touch a nigga where his rib at, I click clack
Push your ma'f*cka wig back, I did that
I been wilding since a juvi'
She was a good girl 'til she knew me
Now she's in the drop bustin' U-ies screaming

Take me
Now that I found the places that you take, take me
Without you I got nothing to lose

Deeper then words, beyond right
Die for your love, beyond life
Sweet as a Jesus piece, beyond ice
Blind me, baby, with your neon lights
Ray Bans on, police in sight
Oh, what a beautiful death
Let's both wear white
If you go to heaven and they bring me to hell
Just sneak out and meet me, bring a box of L's
She fell in love with the bad guy, the bad guy
What you doing with them rap guys, them rap guys
They ain't see potential in me, girl, but you see it
If it's me and you against the world, then so be it, uh

I don't care if they give me life
I get all of my life from you
And if loving you had a price
I would pay my life for you

I hear sirens while we make love
Loud as hell but they don't know
They're nowhere near us
I will hold your heart and your gun
I don't care if they come, no
I know it's crazy but

I don't care I'll never give it up
Give it up, give it up, give it all away, yeah
No I swear I'll never give it up
Give it up, give it up, give it all away, yeah
I don't care I'll never give it up
Give it up, give it up, give it all away, yeah
No, I swear I'll never give it up
Give it up, give it up, give it all away
(Without you I got nothing to lose)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Garland Mosley, Jerome Harmon, Shawn Carter, Timothy Mosley, Terius Nash, James Edward Fauntleroy
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Anthem Entertainment, Exploration Group LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.



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Beach Is Better

Get ya ass on the celly
Cause I ain't got time
To be arguing with your ass
If you ain't really ready

Girl why you never ready
For as long as you took
You better look like Halle Berry
Or Beyoncè. Shit then we getting married

I brought sand to the beach
Cause my beach is better
You can keep ya beach
Cause that beach whatever

Started out at The Darby
Ended up at 1 Oak
Left the house with 100 grand
Ended up near broke

Don't get mad at me
I'm buying bucket after bucket
When it's gone I'm like f*ck it
I replace it with another one

Can't take this money with you
Burn this shit up like I'm richer
Nigga's asking
If the oven's on
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: MARQUEL MIDDLEBROOKS, MICHAEL WILLIAMS, MICHAEL LEN WILLIAMS, SHAWN CARTER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.



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BBC

Let's work [x4]

D boy drug dealer look
Billionaire, billionaire

From the cocoa leafs to the farmers
To the polo fleece to the bombers
R.I.P. to Gianni
Now we on our way
D boy drug dealer look
Billionaire

Let's work

[Verse 1]
Bally shoes, Gucci sneakers
Pharrell's a pharaoh, peep the features
Unlaced Adidas
Top of the world like pyramids in Giza
Fila sweats, 88 I rocked a mock neck
Carried a nine in my projects
Bucket hat EPMD cassettes
Now I'm smoking loud in Ibiza
Mix the D'USSE with the reefer
My whole life is leisure
Gangsta lean like the Pisa
Eiffel Tower, Hermes towel
The Feds perched like an owl
Real niggas all feel the hook

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 2]
What you know about going out, head west
Maybach, 3 TV's all up in the headrest
Mase niggas at Madison Square Garden
20 million sold and we still catching charges
Rope chains, Rakim and Eric B
Bought my sidekicks Suzuki Jeeps and Cherokees
Hoop earrings
Coupes with the rear cameras
Put that bitch in a cherry M3
I'm not ya average dope dealer
Silver Toyotas four runners and four wheelers
Me and Teflon Q45 infinite
Windows tinted
White girl all up in it
Britney, bitch
MCM seats buck 50 stitch
Versace plates got the Basquiat
Collab from Versace place
Cuban link 5 kilo
You life is illegal
When your chain can get the RICO
Real niggas all feel the hook

[Chorus x2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SHAWN CARTER, KASSEEM DEAN, NASIR JONES, JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE, TIMOTHY MOSLEY, PHARRELL WILLIAMS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP



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JAY Z Blue

Let's do this for these babies
Mercedes truck, f*ck, houses on acres
Blatantly ballin' on HD
Y'all need to step up y'all AV
Life changed again I was already taking off
My flight changed again
Slight change of winds
It's barely 12 noon and my wife changed again
Baby need Pampers
Daddy need at least three weeks in the Hamptons
Please don't judge me, only hugged the block
I thought my daddy didn't love me
My baby getting chubby
Cue that Stevie Wonder music, aww isn't she lovely
Now I'm staring at praying that things don't get ugly
And I'm stuck in that old cycle like wife leaves hubby
F*ck joint custody
I need a joint right now
Just the thought alone f*cks with me

High on life
I could die from the fall
Imagine if I hit the floor
Apologies in order
To Blue Ivy my daughter
If it was up to me
You would be with me
Sort of like daddy dearest

I dream filthy (my mom and pops) mixed me with Jamaican
(Rum and whiskey) what a set off (what a set off)
And I know I'm not perfect baby
I been through so much trauma
It gonna be hard to reverse it
With some doctors and some nurses maybe
Teach me on how to treat a lady
Open doors on the 'Cedes
This relationship shit is complicated
All I know is we ain't speaking everyday
I f*cking hate it
I don't wanna duplicate it
I seen my mom and pop drive each other motherf*ckin' crazy
And I got that nigga blood in me
I got his ego and his temper
All is missing is the drugs in me

High on life
I could die from the fall
Imagine if I hit the floor
Apologies in order
To Blue Ivy my daughter
If it was up to me
You would be with me
Sort of like daddy dearest

Father never taught me how to be a father, treat a mother
I don't wanna have to just repeat another leave another
Baby with no daddy want no mama drama
I just wanna take her back to a time when everything was calmer
Out in Paris on a terrace watching the Eiffel Tower
And a Ferris wheel yet and still, nothing could prepare us
For the beauty that you be Blue be
Looking in your eyes is like a mirror, have to face my fears
Cheer up, why can't you just be happy
Without these back and forth thoughts, you too much like your daddy
Badly I just wanna spent more time with him
Sadly life wouldn't let me get around with him
Now I got my own daughter, taught her how to take her first steps
Cut the cord watch her take her first breath
And I'm trying and I'm lying if I said I wasn't scared
But in life and death if I ain't here

Apologies in order
To Blue Ivy my daughter
If it was up to me
You would be with me
Sort of like daddy dearest
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CARLOS BROADY, CHRIS GODBEY, CHRISTOPHER WALLACE, SEAN COMBS, SHAWN CARTER, JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE, DARRYL MCDANIELS, NASHIEM MYRICK, TIMOTHY MOSLEY, JEROME HARMON
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Anthem Entertainment, Hipgnosis Songs Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.



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La Familia

(You're busy?)
(I wanna love you back, I)
(You're busy?)
(I wanna love you back, I) Family first
(You're busy?)
(I wanna love you back, I love you back, the group of my fam') Honor, integrity, R.O.C.

Head of the family
El Padrino
Welcome home to Emory
Let's get back to this dinero

Uh niggas wanna kidnap wifey
Good luck with that bruh
You must gon' hide your whole family
What you think we wearing black for
Ready for that war
Ready for that war ready
You ain't ready yo, you radio you ain't really ready
Real shit chyea
Alpo bought his bricks here
Elvis got his records took
It's like we got our seventh gear
Yeah, NFL investigations
Oh, don't make me laugh
FBI investigation
We stood up to that
Facts only, everything real in my raps only
Every nigga real in my clique really
Everyone's a movie star you got to film me
La familia

Head of the family
El Padrino
Welcome home to Emory
Let's get back to this dinero

Ready for that war
Ready for that war, ready
You ain't ready yo, you radio you ain't really ready
Head of the Family
El Padrino

My brothers is my brother like my brother is
My niggas is my brother
Like my mother kids
Not just in good times
That's that sucka shit
But in war times
It's just what it is
Head of the family
All my niggas bosses though
Y'all don't understand we
We talk that shit bosses know
Uh, triple f*ckin' O.G.
What's up to my nigga Juan
Tell these niggas pull their f*ckin' skirt down
I could see their ovaries
Niggas snitching switching teams
Out here telling bitches things
Industry talk behind your back
Ain't nobody got time for that
Facts only
Everything real in my raps only
Every nigga real in my clique really
Even the girls keep it two hundred and trilly
It's la familia

Head of the family
El Padrino
Welcome home to Emory
Let's get back to this dinero

Ready for that war
Ready for that war, ready
You ain't ready yo, you radio you ain't really ready
Head of the Family
El Padrino

(I wanna love you back, I)
(You're busy?)
(I wanna love you back, I)
(You're busy?)
(I wanna love you back, I love you back, the group of my fam')
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JEROME HARMON, SHAWN CARTER, TIMOTHY MOSLEY
Copyright: Lyrics © Anthem Entertainment, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.



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Nickels And Dimes

[Hook]
Nickels and dimes
Sticks to my mind
I'll never win
You have my friends

[Verse 1]
Got a thing for nickel plated nines and pretty dimes
Mac-11 I squeeze like lemon limes
Squirt obey your thirst, fashion lines
Between beauty and beast, I walk the line
Johnny Cash, I'm a real G
I cut my self today to see if I still bleed
Success is so sublime
Gotta do that time to time so I don't lose my mind
Something 'bout the struggle so divine
This sort of love is hard to define
When you scratching for every nickel and dime
Got me itching to do this shit for my mom
Do this shit for my town
Leave the door open hoping they kick it down
The purist form of giving is anonymous to anonymous
We gonna make it there, I promise this

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Sometimes I feel survivor's guilt
I gave some money to this guy, he got high as hell
Now I'm part of the problem far as I could tell
Did I do it for him or do it for myself
Can't lie to myself
I love my niggas more than my own blood
I die for my niggas and I love my cub, hope that's not f*cked up
I got a problem with the handouts, I took the man route
I'll give an opportunity though, that's the plan now
No guilt in giving clear a nigga conscience out
No guilt in receiving, every thing within reason
Can't see it taking food out my little monster's mouth
That will drive me gaga
Run up in your momma's house, two nickels, one dime
Manslaughter charges, the lawyer, knocked it down
I'm just trying to find common ground
'fore Mr. Belafonte come and chop a nigga down
Mr. Day O, major fail
Respect these youngins boy, it's my time now
Hublot homie, two door homie
You don't know all the shit I do for the homies

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Pardon my hubris, Stanley Kubrick
With eyes wide shut, I could cook up two bricks
Turn nickels to dime, turn dimes to quarters
Turn wives from daughters, oh, I'm clear as water
And just for clarity, my presence is charity
My flow is a gift, philanthropist
Everybody around me rich, or will be
Baby boy I promise you this, or kill me
And when a nigga go as the old adage go
You die rich or you die a disgrace, so just let me grow
Watch me cook, throw no looks
Like Magic in his prime when Kareem sky hooked
Y'all not worthy, sometimes I feel like
Y'all don't deserve me, my flow unearthly
The greatest form of giving is anonymous to anonymous
So here y'all go, I promise this

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SHAWN CARTER, MIKE DEAN, SUMACH VALENTINE
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., WARP MUSIC LIMITED



Top▲  



Back to: Jay-Z

Magna Carta Holy Grail Info:
(buy at amazon.com)
Magna Carta Holy Grail

Magna Carta Holy Grail (alternatively written and stylized as Magna Carta... Holy Grail) is the twelfth studio album by American rapper Jay-Z. It was made available at first for free digital download for Samsung customers via the Jay-Z Magna Carta app on July 4, 2013. It was released for retail sale on July 8, 2013 by Roc Nation, Roc-A-Fella, and Universal Music Distribution, as well as the final release by Roc-A-Fella before the label was shuttered. The album features guest appearances by Justin Timberlake, Nas, Rick Ross, Frank Ocean and Beyoncé. Most of the album was produced by Timbaland and Jerome "J-Roc" Harmon, while other producers included Boi-1da, Mike Will Made It, Hit-Boy, Mike Dean, No I.D., The-Dream, Swizz Beatz, and Pharrell Williams among others. The album was promoted through various commercials presented by Samsung and was not preceded by any retail singles.

The album spawned three successful singles, "Holy Grail", "Tom Ford" and "Part II (On the Run)" featuring Beyoncé. Multiple other songs on the album achieved chart success including, "FuckWithMeYouKnowIGotIt", "Oceans", "Heaven" and "Picasso Baby". Additionally, the album was supported by three concert tours: Legends of the Summer (co-headlined with Justin Timberlake), Magna Carter World Tour and On the Run Tour (co-headlined with his wife Beyoncé).

Upon its release, Magna Carta... Holy Grail was met with mixed reviews from music critics. Some complimented the album's production and composition, while others were disappointed with its overall theme and found many songs repetitive. It debuted at number one on the US Billboard 200, selling 528,000 copies in its first week, making it Jay-Z's 13th consecutive studio album to top the chart. On September 2, 2013, it was announced that the album was certified double platinum by the RIAA, for shipments of two million copies. At the 56th Annual Grammy Awards, the album was nominated in six categories, winning the award for Best Rap/Sung Collaboration for "Holy Grail" featuring Justin Timberlake.
Performed By: Jay-Z
Genre(s): Hip hop, East Coast hip hop
Length: 58:55
Released: July 4th, 2013
Year: 2013

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