If you having girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
Hit me!
(You got 'em Mike?)
He's got the rat patrol on the gat patrol
Foes who wanna make sure his casket's closed
Rap critics who say he's "money, cash, hoes"
He's from the hood, stupid— what type of facts are those?
If you grew up with holes in your "zapatos"
You'd be celebrating the minute you was having dough
So fuck critics— you can kiss our whole asshole
You don't like the lyrics, you can press fast forward
Beef with radio if we don't play their show
They don't play our hits— we don't give a shit, so!
All these mags trying to use our ass
So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads— fuckers
I don't know what you take us as...
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
From rags to riches— we ain't dumb
We got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
Hit me!
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
If you having girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
The year is '94— in my trunk is raw
In the rearview mirror it's the motherfucking law
I got two choices, ya'll:
Pull over the car or... bounce on the devil
Put the pedal to the floor
And I ain't trying to see no highway chase with "Jake"
Plus I got a few dollars, I could fight the case
So I... pull over to the side of the road and I heard:
Son, do you know what I'm stopping you for?
"Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hat's real low?
Do I look like a mind-reader, sir? I don't know!
Am I under arrest, or should I guess some mo'?"
You was doing fifty-five in a fifty-four...
License and registration and step out of the car
Are you carrying a weapon on you?
I know a lot of you are...
"Look, I ain't stepping outta shit, all my paper's legit!"
Well, do you mind if I look around the car a little bit?
"Well, my glove compartment is locked, so is the trunk in the back—
And I know my rights, so you gon' need a warrant for that..."
Aren't you sharp as a tack!
You some type of lawyer or something?
Somebody important or something?
"Hah! I ain't passed the bar, but I know a little bit...
Enough that you won't illegally search my shit!"
Well, we'll see how smart you are when the canines come...
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
Hit me!
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
If you having girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
Hit me!
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
If you having girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
Hit me!
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
If you having girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
Now once upon a time, not too long ago
A nigga like myself had to strong arm a hoe
This is not a hoe in the sense of "having a pussy"
But "a pussy having no god damn sense", trying to push me
I tried to ignore him and talk to the Lord
Pray for him, 'cause some fools just love to perform
You know the type— loud as a motor bike
But wouldn't bust a grape in a food fight
The only thing that's gonna happen is I'mma get to clapping
And he and his boys gon' be yapping to the captain
And there I go, trapped in the kit-kat again
"Back through the system with the riff-raff" again
Fiends on the floor, scratching again
Paparazzis with they cameras, snapping them
D.A. try to give a nigga [the] shaft again
Half-a-mil for bail, 'cause I'm African
All because this fool was harrassing them
Trying to play the boy like he's saccharine
But ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
I got 99 problems— being a bitch ain't one
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
If you having girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
Hit me!
99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
If you having girl problems, I feel bad for you, son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
Hit me!
Shut up when I'm talking to you!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up when I'm talking to you!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
Shut up!
I'm about to break!
Everything you say to me...
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
Hit me!
I need a little room to breathe...
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
Hit me!
Everything you say to me...
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one...
Hit me!
I need a little room to breathe...
I've got 99 problems—
And I'm about to... break!
