Trackmasters - Face Off lyrics

[Jay-Z talking] Sauce mothaf**in, jigga, jigga feel this... [Hook: Jay-Z] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) f** 'em all day f** 'em all night We don't love these hoes [Hook: Sauce Money] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me) (If ya feel me) f** 'em all day f** 'em all night We don't love these hoes [Verse 1] Yeah (If ya want some put ya guns up it's on) Ladies know that when the sun's up I'm gone (f** them b**hes though digits though) f**, now if I bring it n***as know whaat (All black gat with the mack out) I take shorty to the rest blow her back out Sun dress undress throw her back out (biotch) (in & out like a crack house) keep it moving (Face off with the .38 scraped off) Keep shorty laced caked off off an eight ball Know your place (so it starts when ya least expect) (the yeast infect) you don't imitate b**hes (piece protected) so I hear you hate b**hes? (love the dough, ya flow irritate n***as) f** them though, it's all out and Have a fall out I f**ed ya girl (On top now we call out f** the world) (Face Off!) [Hook: Sauce Money] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) f** 'em all day f** 'em all night we don't love these hoes [Hook: Jay-Z] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) f** 'em all day f** 'em all night We don't love these hoes [Verse 2] (I apologize ladies I'm lovin' ya right) You must be used to me trickin' but we f**in' tonight (No wine no dine) no wheelin' the whip All night long just feelin' the dick be-i-itch (Sauce mothaf**in' slayin' I'm sayin' with no delayin') (Can you beat that? I eat that) you just playin' n***a you neva know what a chick could do (pull the trigga too) check the sh** jigga do (My crew) mackin' the same b**h (I do) (back man stack grands) daddy like I you (Love them hoes jigga?) Ha how that sound? Women start to fall we all bat around Let my whole team hit it (scatter 'round) You never seen wit it (pat 'em down) Check for cream in it (These riches) Got nu'hin to do wit these b**hes (Nothin' y'all can do to stop these digits) (Face Off!) [Hook: Jay Z] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) f** 'em all day f** 'em all night We don't love these hoes [Hook: Sauce Money] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) f** 'em all day f** 'em all night We don't love these hoes [Verse 3] (Can I touch that?) what's that? Leave it for dead Keep ya arm over ya face my n***a (keep ya head) (keep a mind to survive if ya sleep ya dead) Stay fly 'til ya die n***a deep with prayer (with each word ya say I guess the beef is dead) Ladies & gentlemen (like impeach the Prez) (Val Kilmer style n***a draw heat with feds) (broad day like De Niro shoot all day) I'm the man f**in' the tracks and you just foreplay Get a hit I, I come through, blow up, you spit out What keep it co*ked faithfully like salop With one in the drop don't get hit up (I be the 4-5th flamer hoes b**h shamer) (clap cats a snitch she'll give ya whole click name up) Look I done came up (and) thought a whole game up Meet me in the square with one in the chamber (The Face Off n***a) [Hook: Jay Z] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) f** 'em all day f** 'em all night We don't love these hoes [Hook: Sauce Money] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up in the air if ya feel me (If ya feel me) f** 'em all day f** 'em all night We don't love these hoes [Hook: Jay Z & (Sauce Money)] This goes out to my Brooklyn crew Put ya guns up (in the air) if ya feel me f** 'em all day (f** 'em all night) We don't love these hoes ["Track Masters" is whispered softly 8X in background] (This goes out... put ya guns up in the air) if ya feel me if ya feel (f** 'em all day f** 'em all night we don't love these hoes) Yeah!! This goes out (to my Brooklyn crew)...