I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
You got it, Mike?
He’s got the rap patrol on the gat patrol
Foes that 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 celebratin’ the minute you was havin’ dough
So fuck critics: You can kiss our whole asshole
If you don’t like the lyrics you can press fast-forward
Got beef with radio if we don’t play the show
They don’t play our hits—we don’t give a shit, so
All these mags tryin’ to use our ass
So advertisers can give ‘em more cash for ads
Fuckers, I don’t know what you take us has
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
From rags to riches, we ain’t dumb
We got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
Ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
If you havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you, son
I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
The year is ninety-four and my trunk is raw
In the rear-view mirror is the mo’fuckin’ law
I got two choices, y’all: Pull over the car or
Bounce on the double, put the pedal to the floor
Now I ain’t tryin’ to see no highway chase with Jake
Plus I got a few dollars—I can fight the case
So I pull over to the side of the road
And I heard: “Son, do you know what I’m stoppin’ you for?”
‘Cause I’m young and I’m black and my hat’s too low?
Do I look like a mind-reader, sir? I don’t know
Am I under arrest or should I guess some more?
“You was doin’ fifty-five in a fifty four
License and registration and step out of the car
Are you carryin’ a weapon on you? Know a lot of you are”
I ain’t steppin’ out of 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’s the trunk in the back
And I know my rights so you gon’ need a warrant for that
“Now aren’t you sharp as a tack? You some type-a lawyer or somethin’?
Somebody important or somethin’?”
Haha, I ain’t passed the bar but I know a little bit
Enough that you won’t illegally search my shit
“We’ll see how smart you are when the K9’s come”
I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
Ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
If you havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you, son
I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
Ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
If you havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you, son
I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
Ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
If you havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you, son
I got ninety-nine 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 ho
This is not a ho in the sense of havin’ pussy
But a pussy havin’ no God damn sense tryin’ 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 motorbike
But wouldn’t bust a grape in a fruit fight
The only thing that’s gonna happen is I’m-a get to clappin’
And he and his boys gon’ be yappin’ 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 scratchin’ again
Paparazzis with they cameras, snappin’ them
DA tried to give the nigga shaft again
Half a mil for bail ‘cause I’m African
All because this fool was harassin’ them
Tryin’ to play the boy like he’s saccharine
But ain’t nothin’ sweet—‘bout I hold my gun
I got ninety-nine problems—bein’ a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
Ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
If you havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you, son
I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
Ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
If you havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you, son
I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
Shut up when I’m talkin’ to you
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up when I’m talkin’ to you
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
I’m about to break
Everything you say to me
I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit
I need a little room to breathe
I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
Everything you say to me
I got ninety-nine problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit
I need a little room to breathe
I got ninety-nine problems
And I’m about to break
