Amil, JAY-Z - That’s Right lyrics

This how I creep up on that ass (Just Blaze)
See how the beat is building?
I creep on your ass (Just Blaze)
Let me show y'all what the fuck I mean
Uh uh, Jigga man, ya heard?
Amillion, ya heard? Roc-A-Fella, ya heard?
The Dynasty, let's go!

All my ladies (that's right)
You pop Cris' (that's right)
You a hot bitch (that's right)
Make that nigga trick (that's right)
Get that dough ma (that's right)
Let 'em know ma (that's right)
Soon as you learn how to drive make'
Em put you in a 5 mami

Yo you got dough (that's right)
Let it show (that's right)
If the moneys slow (that's right)
You know the rest yo (buck buck buck)
For my thug niggas (right)
Bust a slug niggas (right)
Fuck that get money show love niggas

Jigga man got Grammys so grams
Cops cannot stand me
Ladies want me to put cock
In they hot panties
Big man on campus, 6 sedan
Over 100 million made, niggas
Shipped and scanned
Niggas cannot stop, knocking that Big Pac
Banging that Big Pun, popping my big gun
Quick run, duck as soon as the gun bust
Forget where I'm from? Be
Coughing your lungs up
Robin hood in a big truck
Picking the bums up
I never know when I can be down my dumb luck
But the flow so tough I've
Been beating the drums up
Been hot so long like I'm heating the sun up
On the come up, ones is up
Begging niggas to run up
So I can take this heat and
Bang you to next Summer
Number one rapper dippin' mo mos'
Don't make me come press ya with this 44
Nigga

Amillion make a lot of tricks (hop skip)
The hottest whip (copped it)
Prada shit (rocked it)
Got the Cris' (pop it)
Can Ma spit? (locked it)
The Roca clique (goddess)
Like Jay's part two
Get props where props due
Give you something you can feel (huh)
Can't keep still (huh)
Tryin' ta see a mill' (huh)
Dollar dollar bills (huh)
Five inch heels (huh)
Bitches wanna grill (huh)
Me and my labelmates be
Making these cats hate oh come come now
Wanna know where I'm from now
Her's a little run down bK to Uptown
Pockets kinda plump now
Haters get the thumbs down
No need for all that
I never keep small stacks
Alright y'all lights out
Floss with the ice out
Brag with the price out red I flights out
Overseas hideout raw inside out
My bitches time to slide out
It's ladies night out



In the trunk Rocawear, nigga, I got clothes
Stop it, I got hoes
Black, Asian, Malaysian, Spanish, Mulattoes
Look, I got whips 46
6 drop shit's bentley cockpit's
While y'all pop shit
Any nigga that tell you money is the
Root of all evil ain't got shit
You a lying bitch
You rather live poor, I rather die rich
'Nough said

Mami girl keep the 'do rap
You know bag and shoes match
Get niggas for a few stacks
Quick to run through that
Broke niggas, boo that
Bought my whole crew Plat'
The record I don't play around
Bitch I lay it down shit I only roll wit
Those who can go get 6 double 0 whips
Niggas that hold tips ice had ya hoes trip
Daddy let ya dough flip fuck with no scrubs
Go collect them dubs