Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dirt Off Your Shoulder (as made famous by Jay-Z), artist - Hip Hop Hitmakers. Album song Swagga Like Us, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 28.02.2009
Record label: Da Hype
Song language: English
Dirt Off Your Shoulder (as made famous by Jay-Z) |
You’re now tuned into the muh’fuckin greatest |
Turn the music up in the headphones |
Tim, you can go and brush your shoulder off nigga |
I got you, yeah |
If you feelin like a pimp nigga, go and brush your shoulders off |
Ladies is pimps too, go and brush your shoulders off |
Niggaz is crazy baby, don’t forget that boy told you |
Get, that, dirt off your shoulder |
I probably owe it to y’all, proud to be locked by the force |
Tryin to hustle some things, that go with the Porsche |
Feelin no remorse, feelin like my hand was forced |
Middle finger to the law, nigga grippin my balls |
Said the ladies they love me, from the bleachers they screamin |
All the ballers is bouncin they like the way I be leanin |
All the rappers be hatin, off the track that I’m makin |
But all the hustlers they love it just to see one of us make it Came from the bottom the bottom, to the top of the pots |
Nigga London, Japan and I’m straight off the block |
Like a running back, get it man, I’m straight off the block |
I can run it back nigga cause I’m straight with the Roc |
You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder |
You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder |
You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder |
You gotta get, that, dirt off your shoulder |
Your homey Hov’in position, in the kitchen with soda |
I just whipped up a watch, tryin to get me a Rover |
Tryin to stretch out the coca, like a wrestler, yessir |
Keep the Heckler close, you know them smokers’ll test ya But like, fifty-two cards when I’m, I’m through dealin |
Now fifty-two bars come it, now you feel 'em |
Now, fifty-two cars roll out, remove ceiling |
In case fifty-two broads come out, now you chillin |
with a boss bitch of course S.C. on the sleeve |
At the 40/40 club, ESPN on the screen |
I paid a grip for the jeans, plus the slippers is clean |
No chrome on the wheels, I’m a grown-up for real |
Your boy back in the building, Brooklyn we back on the map |
Me and my beautiful beeeeeeeitch in the back of that 'Bach |
I’m the realest that run it, I just happen to rap |
I ain’t gotta clap at 'em, niggaz scared of that black |
I drop that +Black, Album+ then I back, out it As the best rapper alive nigga axe about me From Bricks to Billboards, from grams to Grammys |
The O’s to opposite, Orphan Annie |
You gotta pardon Jay, for sellin out the Garden in a day |
I’m like a young Marvin in his hey' |
I’m a hustler homey, you a customer crony |
Got some, dirt on my shoulder, could you brush it off for me? |
You’re now tuned into the muh’fuckin greatest |
Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |