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If you havin girl problems I bad for you, son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one
I got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol
Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed
Rap critics that say he's "Money, Cash, Hoes"
I'm from the hood stupid, what type of facts are those?
If you grew up with holes in your zapatos
You'd celebrate the minute you was dough
I'm like fuck critics, you can kiss my whole asshole
If you don't like my lyrics, you can fast forward
Got with radio if I don't play they show
they don't play my hits - well I don't give a shit, SO!
Rap mags try and use my black ass
So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads, fuckers!
I don't know what you me as
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
I'm from, rags to riches, niggaz I ain't dumb
I got 99 problems, but a ain't one - hit me!
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one - hit me!
The year is ninety-four, in my trunk is raw
In my rearview mirror is the motherfuckin law
Got two choices y'all, over the car or (hmm)
bounce on the Devil, put the pedal to the floor
And I ain't tryin to see no highway chase with Jay
Plus I got a few dollars, I can fight the case
So I, pull over to the side of the road
I heard "Son do you know what I'm stoppin you for?"
Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hat's real low
Or do I look like a mindreader sir? I don't know
Am I under or should I guess some mo'?
"Well you was doin fifty-five in a fifty-four;
license and registration and step out of the car -
are you carryin a on you? I know a lot of you are"
I ain't steppin out of shit, all my paper's legit
"Well do you mind if I around the car a little bit?"
Well my glove compartment is locked, so is the trunk in the back
And I my rights, so you gon' need a for that
"Aren't you sharp as a tack! You of lawyer or somethin, somebody important or somethin"
Child 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 canine comes"
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one - hit me!
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin 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 havin girl problems I bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one - hit me!
Now upon a time, not too ago
A nigga like myself had to strongarm a hoe
This is not a hoe in the sense of havin a pussy
But a pussy havin no God damn sense, try an' push me
I try to him, talk to the Lord
Pray for him, but some fools just love to perform
You know the type, loud as a motorbike
But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight
And only thing that's gon' happen is I'ma get to clappin and
he and his boys gon' be yappin to the Captain
And I go, trapped in the Kit-Kat again
through the system with the riff-raff again
Fiends on the floor, scratchin again
Paparazzis with they cameras, snappin them
D.A. try to give a nigga shaft again
Half a mill' for bail cause I'm African
All because this fool was harassin them
Tryin to play the boy he's saccharin
But ain't nuttin sweet bout how I hold my gun
I got 99 problems but and a bitch ain't one - hit me!
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin 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 havin problems I bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one - hit me!
.. Whoo! Whoo! Uh, uh
Havin girl problems I bad for you son
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one, ha ha!
You for this one Rick! It's your boy!
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one
I got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol
Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed
Rap critics that say he's "Money, Cash, Hoes"
I'm from the hood stupid, what type of facts are those?
If you grew up with holes in your zapatos
You'd celebrate the minute you was dough
I'm like fuck critics, you can kiss my whole asshole
If you don't like my lyrics, you can fast forward
Got with radio if I don't play they show
they don't play my hits - well I don't give a shit, SO!
Rap mags try and use my black ass
So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads, fuckers!
I don't know what you me as
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
I'm from, rags to riches, niggaz I ain't dumb
I got 99 problems, but a ain't one - hit me!
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one - hit me!
The year is ninety-four, in my trunk is raw
In my rearview mirror is the motherfuckin law
Got two choices y'all, over the car or (hmm)
bounce on the Devil, put the pedal to the floor
And I ain't tryin to see no highway chase with Jay
Plus I got a few dollars, I can fight the case
So I, pull over to the side of the road
I heard "Son do you know what I'm stoppin you for?"
Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hat's real low
Or do I look like a mindreader sir? I don't know
Am I under or should I guess some mo'?
"Well you was doin fifty-five in a fifty-four;
license and registration and step out of the car -
are you carryin a on you? I know a lot of you are"
I ain't steppin out of shit, all my paper's legit
"Well do you mind if I around the car a little bit?"
Well my glove compartment is locked, so is the trunk in the back
And I my rights, so you gon' need a for that
"Aren't you sharp as a tack! You of lawyer or somethin, somebody important or somethin"
Child 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 canine comes"
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one - hit me!
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin 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 havin girl problems I bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one - hit me!
Now upon a time, not too ago
A nigga like myself had to strongarm a hoe
This is not a hoe in the sense of havin a pussy
But a pussy havin no God damn sense, try an' push me
I try to him, talk to the Lord
Pray for him, but some fools just love to perform
You know the type, loud as a motorbike
But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight
And only thing that's gon' happen is I'ma get to clappin and
he and his boys gon' be yappin to the Captain
And I go, trapped in the Kit-Kat again
through the system with the riff-raff again
Fiends on the floor, scratchin again
Paparazzis with they cameras, snappin them
D.A. try to give a nigga shaft again
Half a mill' for bail cause I'm African
All because this fool was harassin them
Tryin to play the boy he's saccharin
But ain't nuttin sweet bout how I hold my gun
I got 99 problems but and a bitch ain't one - hit me!
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin 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 havin problems I bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one - hit me!
.. Whoo! Whoo! Uh, uh
Havin girl problems I bad for you son
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one, ha ha!
You for this one Rick! It's your boy!
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