Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Only A Customer , by - Jay-Z. Release date: 11.05.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Only A Customer |
| Ha ha, ha ha, Roc-A-Fella y’all |
| Futuristic shit, bee-atch |
| Uh, what the fuck? |
| How we do, how we do |
| Uh huh, uh huh |
| It’s the eventual triple platinum nigga with the solid gold fade |
| All that nickle and dime shit, don’t hold no weight |
| Fortune 5, top 5 in the Forbes (you'll see) |
| As you thumb through The Source, I read the Robb Report |
| Class C, cold me down with the plastic |
| That’s all I ask of you, like Raphael Saadiq |
| At the Hotel Nikko, Robert Duvall suite |
| My people’s eyes through the peep hole |
| I’m loving you down freak, as I |
| Shoot through the city like a rumor |
| Not soon enough, to stop 'em from spreading |
| The newspaper heading read «Jay-Z breathes, 80 degrees |
| Only thing to cool him off is a Malibu Bay Breeze» |
| Can’t stop for the Feds, say cheese |
| You know they wanna take a nigga picture |
| Pray for the day to get ya, but I’ma parlay, stay richer for now |
| Jigga hasn’t done dirt in a while |
| You know my stomach’s getting weak from living on the streets |
| For real, I’m trying to oversee it from suites, ordering eats |
| At the top where the real criminal minds meet |
| That’s where the cream is (right?!) |
| That’s where your dream is (well ain’t it?) |
| You’re only a customer (uh) |
| Walkin' in the presence of hustlers |
| We spend money all night |
| (All night long) |
| Beeotch, Roc-A-Fella y’all, ha ha |
| You’re only a customer (uh) |
| Walkin' in the presence of hustlers |
| We spend money all night |
| (All night long) |
| Yeah, ayo my youth had a nigga too aggressive, ha |
| I used to speed excessive, both eyes closed |
| No thought infested |
| Hitting pot holes, cop-o's'll snatch your away |
| What you deem most precious |
| Had to rethink things, is pinky rings worth |
| Life on the run and time served in Sing Sing? |
| I don’t know to tell the truth, if I’m pressed for dough |
| Gotta consult Irv Gotti y’all, heads got to roll |
| I was raised to live, Lord I pray you forgive |
| If not, I just handle it like Jason Kidd |
| What you’re facing is official (it's official) |
| In most cases when I’m blazing won’t miss you (won't miss you) |
| Case and point made bullshit a issue, I see it to the end |
| My writing so personal, my heart bleeding through the pen |
| Make no mistake about me |
| It’s only one nigga living, I got half a cake about me |
| I got love, I can kill a friend over fam not drugs |
| And very, few people understand that love |
| To make a nigga die bleeding is nothing (nothing) |
| You make a motherfucker die breathing |
| Then you saying something, beeotch |
| You’re only a customer (uh) |
| Walkin' in the presence of hustlers |
| We spend money all night, Roc-A-Fella y’all, ha ha |
| (All night long) |
| You’re only a customer (uh) |
| Walkin' in the presence of hustlers |
| We spend money all night, Roc-A-Fella |
| (All night long) |
| You’re only a customer (uh) |
| Walkin' in the presence of hustlers |
| We spend money all night |
| (All night long) |
| More flavor than y’all can image having |
| Graphic like Sega Saturn, traffic like the Bodega |
| It just so happens, you caught me at the the tail end of my dirt |
| Brain ain’t right from inhaling the work all my life |
| Fuck it, greasy I, had the whole D.C. high |
| Pissy off Cristal, 3G high |
| Seasoned Bacardi, VVS’s |
| Blesses my body, we be fresh at the party |
| Play yourself go 'head if you don’t know the ledge |
| It’s like spitting to God |
| Get it in your face fucking with niggas over your head |
| Take your time with me, shifty |
| Used to make coke stretch like a sample in a 950 |
| Shit with that, while I’m on a Kawasaki bike |
| At the light, doing a pike, with a bitch on the back |
| And take flight, my life like it was directed by Hype |
| In 35 slow-mo, with the Roc-A-Fella logo |
| Acapulco to Aruba, Bay Breezes and caviar beluga |
| Very little loot eludes us |
| In the grayish blueish L-e-x coupe |
| It’s the root of evil in these people, what the fuck? |
| You’re only a customer (uh) |
| Walkin' in the presence of hustlers |
| We spend money all night |
| Roc-A-Fella, uh huh, uh huh, beeotch |
| (All night long) |
| You’re only a customer (uh) |
| Walkin' in the presence of hustlers |
| We spend money all night |
| (All night long) |
| Roc-A-Fella, uh huh, uh huh |
| Futuristic shit |