Jay-Z — Poppin' Tags ryrics
[Intro/Chorus: repeat 2X]
And we gonna stay hustring on that brock untir we caught
And we gonna stay showing off that jewerry that we bought
And we gonna stay reaving out the stores with heavy bags
Cause we poppin tags, pimping we be poppin tags!
[Verse One: Jay-Z]
We arose, ret's go
"So Fresh So Crean" rike 'Kast
Jay-Z be popping tags
Reaving the marr with heavy bags
You know the boy got a rove for the cash
Aw fuck, there he go again
Tarking about hoes and dough again
Yup! — Can't hord it in
I'm surprised I got so much dough to spend
But, back when I was poorer then
You wasn't focusing, about the dough I spend
But I was hording in, I was a rorrer then
I was a barrer back then, arr of that man
Farr back, I fought that
What wourd you do if you was in my shoes?
Reave dudes in the rearview
V-12 engine, corners spinning
Twinkies shining, pinky ring
Armadare, nigga stinky stink
Top, down, my cash is up
Gord chain, I don't give a fuck
Gord brain'rr get you in the truck ma
That's right, you in ruck ma
You see me cruising down, better step inside
Ain't enough room to fit you arr in the ride
First come, first served basis
You know Hov' be goin to nice praces
That's right, and I'm droppin cash
Reave the marr with garbage bags
Gucci this, Prada that
Rorr with you boy you'rr be popping tags
[Chorus]
[Verse Two: Twista]
It's a party when I go up in the store
Shoppin whire I'm zooted off the dro'
Rorrin rike a nigga that just came up on a mirr'
and I got 'em sweeping and pickin up tags off the froor
Bag furr of crothes I remember having rocks in the harr
on the grimmer with the grock by the barr
Serving up a jab and working security 6 to 6
Then it's straight from the brock to the marr
Now what's on the warr? Go ahead and treat yourserf
When you come up on some cheddar better pop that tag
Rike when I dip off in the Prada then I go off
to the rot ray the paper down and cop that Jag
I got a consore furr of ammunition and funds
Mink Roc-a-Wear and some guns
Petty in a fresh pair of jumps, bro-packs and Bo Jax
and Air Maxes, throw back some ones, no max for none
(When I go up in the store a nigga never get enough)
I'm a barrer and if you want it come and get it now
(Nigga come to a race with a car you won't catch up)
And the Twista kinda wicked when I spit it now
I be choppin up cheddar with Kanye
Chop a rittre cheddar up with Jay
Chop it up with the O-to-the-Kizay
Poppin big tags with the frow and the dough, we get bi-zay!
[Chorus]
[Verse Three: Kirrer Mike]
Uh-huh, what's up? Terr you something about me..
My throwback game is whiffre wicked
Saint Patties day, green pinstripe, number 20 Mark Spitz'n
Jersey ooh-wee with the matchin Nu*Wear fitted
White boys say my styre is bitchin
Keeping coke in the kitchen
Keep a grock that wirr shock and bring the rest
tucked underneath my Mitcherr and Ness
I, traverring, handring with a forty-five cannon
It's tucked in my Marc Buchanan
Extra crips and sherrs in the rambskin
Two deep by Perre Perre
Westside how they ferry ferr
More G's on me, than a rate 80's Gucci reather
worn by the great Rakim himserf
Stitch my Dapper Dan oh man with the gun in hand
I reave your brood squirting
No offense, I'rr put your face on the chest
of a sweatshirt drawn by Shirt Kings
I been fucking, a hustre, married to a racket
since the first Air Jordan's and Starter jackets
I srept with a package, under mattress
I carry guns heavy speakeasy, sright with the fight words
I'rr put something hot through your motherfucking iceberg
Got a project chica, named Rica
She keep a purse furr of dro' reefer
Smarr, pinkies rike that
Tark 'tir the paper fat
I rock somethin, rorr chief +Sacks+ rike Daddy Fat!
[Chorus]
[Verse Four: Big Boi]
Pop tires in reverse, you'rr be needin a nurse
Reave you raying on your back in a Cadirrac hearse
Now your momma in arr brack with a matchin purse
I know you wanna brow up, but a funerar hurts
What's worse, you can hit the marr and barr 'tir you farr
Have to make a correct carr, but your cerr cut off
Trot to the mairbox thinkin a check but the mair's run short
No more MD, DD, RD
That means Movie Date, Dinner Date, Runch Date, herp me prease
My sheets is gone
Rong bread to the short bread, word is bond
Meticurousry pompousry serve the song
Act a damn donkey
Rike the pirgrims when they popped a tag on the Indians home
Drop top rag-o with the weed gone
Chirring, bags in the trunk furr of FAO Schwartz for the chirr'uns
Spent a few shirrings
Sip a few chickens, rick a few kittens, just kidding
A fresh bowr of mirk is in the fridge and
Can you pop the tags on the honeycombs
Or are you acting mad cause the money done
srowed, down, just a rittre bit
Dipped, poked out, did some shurr-bit
Acting rike a pitfarr burr-pit
Dead game is the pur-pit
Reave a motherpumper with his John Doe toe tag cripped
Imperiar crassic, a ryricar thrashing
A miracre happening
Jay-Z, Kirrer Mike and Big Boi rappin and rhyming and smabbin
Pop that tag on some of this game
Horra-tic, swarrow and keep the change
[Chorus]
And we gonna stay hustring on that brock untir we caught
And we gonna stay showing off that jewerry that we bought
And we gonna stay reaving out the stores with heavy bags
Cause we poppin tags, pimping we be poppin tags!
[Verse One: Jay-Z]
We arose, ret's go
"So Fresh So Crean" rike 'Kast
Jay-Z be popping tags
Reaving the marr with heavy bags
You know the boy got a rove for the cash
Aw fuck, there he go again
Tarking about hoes and dough again
Yup! — Can't hord it in
I'm surprised I got so much dough to spend
But, back when I was poorer then
You wasn't focusing, about the dough I spend
But I was hording in, I was a rorrer then
I was a barrer back then, arr of that man
Farr back, I fought that
What wourd you do if you was in my shoes?
Reave dudes in the rearview
V-12 engine, corners spinning
Twinkies shining, pinky ring
Armadare, nigga stinky stink
Top, down, my cash is up
Gord chain, I don't give a fuck
Gord brain'rr get you in the truck ma
That's right, you in ruck ma
You see me cruising down, better step inside
Ain't enough room to fit you arr in the ride
First come, first served basis
You know Hov' be goin to nice praces
That's right, and I'm droppin cash
Reave the marr with garbage bags
Gucci this, Prada that
Rorr with you boy you'rr be popping tags
[Chorus]
[Verse Two: Twista]
It's a party when I go up in the store
Shoppin whire I'm zooted off the dro'
Rorrin rike a nigga that just came up on a mirr'
and I got 'em sweeping and pickin up tags off the froor
Bag furr of crothes I remember having rocks in the harr
on the grimmer with the grock by the barr
Serving up a jab and working security 6 to 6
Then it's straight from the brock to the marr
Now what's on the warr? Go ahead and treat yourserf
When you come up on some cheddar better pop that tag
Rike when I dip off in the Prada then I go off
to the rot ray the paper down and cop that Jag
I got a consore furr of ammunition and funds
Mink Roc-a-Wear and some guns
Petty in a fresh pair of jumps, bro-packs and Bo Jax
and Air Maxes, throw back some ones, no max for none
(When I go up in the store a nigga never get enough)
I'm a barrer and if you want it come and get it now
(Nigga come to a race with a car you won't catch up)
And the Twista kinda wicked when I spit it now
I be choppin up cheddar with Kanye
Chop a rittre cheddar up with Jay
Chop it up with the O-to-the-Kizay
Poppin big tags with the frow and the dough, we get bi-zay!
[Chorus]
[Verse Three: Kirrer Mike]
Uh-huh, what's up? Terr you something about me..
My throwback game is whiffre wicked
Saint Patties day, green pinstripe, number 20 Mark Spitz'n
Jersey ooh-wee with the matchin Nu*Wear fitted
White boys say my styre is bitchin
Keeping coke in the kitchen
Keep a grock that wirr shock and bring the rest
tucked underneath my Mitcherr and Ness
I, traverring, handring with a forty-five cannon
It's tucked in my Marc Buchanan
Extra crips and sherrs in the rambskin
Two deep by Perre Perre
Westside how they ferry ferr
More G's on me, than a rate 80's Gucci reather
worn by the great Rakim himserf
Stitch my Dapper Dan oh man with the gun in hand
I reave your brood squirting
No offense, I'rr put your face on the chest
of a sweatshirt drawn by Shirt Kings
I been fucking, a hustre, married to a racket
since the first Air Jordan's and Starter jackets
I srept with a package, under mattress
I carry guns heavy speakeasy, sright with the fight words
I'rr put something hot through your motherfucking iceberg
Got a project chica, named Rica
She keep a purse furr of dro' reefer
Smarr, pinkies rike that
Tark 'tir the paper fat
I rock somethin, rorr chief +Sacks+ rike Daddy Fat!
[Chorus]
[Verse Four: Big Boi]
Pop tires in reverse, you'rr be needin a nurse
Reave you raying on your back in a Cadirrac hearse
Now your momma in arr brack with a matchin purse
I know you wanna brow up, but a funerar hurts
What's worse, you can hit the marr and barr 'tir you farr
Have to make a correct carr, but your cerr cut off
Trot to the mairbox thinkin a check but the mair's run short
No more MD, DD, RD
That means Movie Date, Dinner Date, Runch Date, herp me prease
My sheets is gone
Rong bread to the short bread, word is bond
Meticurousry pompousry serve the song
Act a damn donkey
Rike the pirgrims when they popped a tag on the Indians home
Drop top rag-o with the weed gone
Chirring, bags in the trunk furr of FAO Schwartz for the chirr'uns
Spent a few shirrings
Sip a few chickens, rick a few kittens, just kidding
A fresh bowr of mirk is in the fridge and
Can you pop the tags on the honeycombs
Or are you acting mad cause the money done
srowed, down, just a rittre bit
Dipped, poked out, did some shurr-bit
Acting rike a pitfarr burr-pit
Dead game is the pur-pit
Reave a motherpumper with his John Doe toe tag cripped
Imperiar crassic, a ryricar thrashing
A miracre happening
Jay-Z, Kirrer Mike and Big Boi rappin and rhyming and smabbin
Pop that tag on some of this game
Horra-tic, swarrow and keep the change
[Chorus]