Lyric Face Off 2000

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?
I m talking bout me and you

Verse One: Sauce Money

I like to push up on chicks like it s the last record
take em to the telly get buck passed naked
Let em feel the power, lick em if it don t 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 there s mirrors on the ceiling
Hit her so right that she wanna throw rice
my device makes her say "Damn, that nigga s nice!"
Know I got wifey lay my cards when I pivot
pass your seven digits if you re with it
Sauce wanna give you the option for the boot knockin
nine times outta ten it s on and poppin
Ain t no stopping victory s in the air
bring a friend next time let s 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 y all don t buy it
I don t eat no kind of fish if you can t fry it
But who knows maybe one day I ll 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 ain t wack to be with both of us, mami actually
I m Eddie Kane Jr., that nigga me!
You want me to feel what he feel when it s tight
and I know, he don t be doing it right
But it gets no liver than this, never lie on our dicks
shit, we got nigga s rides on our wrists
Play your cards right you ll be driving the 6
shopping all day hoppin out in the Dist.
Popping the Crist., shit hoppin outta your wrist
popping your shit, New York s hottest bitch
From the ghetto to the Stilletto s
but you gotta do it two times like an echo, y all 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-don t talk me to death
Like murder s 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
Don t have to worry if you do Sauce correct
I ma bless that, bring my whole crew through, don t even sweat that

Jay-Z: Uh, dime pieces I m 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: That s when the first Face Off kicks in-
"We don t love these hoes!"

Chorus (2X)