I’m So Wavy (Jay-Z Diss)

Niggas pop tags, I pop the four-five
Niggas got swag, I got the Tek-9
Niggas got cash better run it
Only dubs and hundreds, I don’t do fifties, nigga
And I don’t do 50-year-old Jiggas
Off that boss black Lamborghini, interior soft crack
Louis V golf hat, feelin’ like a Tiger
I made something out of nothin’ like MacGyver
Started from an eighth, flipped it to a key
I got ‘em like ay, trappin’ like Gucci
Plus I get more green than bleu cheese
And I keep a red bandana in my blue jeans
So, nigga calm your nerves, with all that absurd
Far from the curb bullshit slash spoken word
You nerd I’m from the same city as Venus and Serena
So don’t get served I’m so wavy, I don't need no yacht
Ain’t no Big Pimpin' on my block
But I’m an underground king, peace to Pimp C, yeah
Catch me ridin’ through the hood, 20-10 Bentley
You got cheese and I kill rats
Translation: I still trap now do something with that
Or respond to this and with them big-ass lips
You got my name in your mouth I hope it tastes like this—Ahh
No homo, one more time—Ahh that’s your promo
And I been hard to the core since I went solo
Only man on my horse like my all-black Polo
And where I’m ’bout to go is usually a no-no
But I’m loco, got the camel in a chokehold
Tryna son me, I’m not from NYC
You can’t even have a child by your Destiny
And I ain’t mean to take a shot at B
I blacked out like you did Free
‘Cause I’m so wavy
Too hardcore to be a Jay-Z
Rock more red than Weezy Baby
Please say the Baby
Been around for years, so bitch, don’t Drake me
And this is not a diss
‘Cause I was just out in LA with Drake, bitch
And no disrespect to G and Hip-Hop
But nigga I’m a G and I’m doing this for hip-hop
And that’s ‘Ye’s brother, and ‘Ye my nigga so
I’mma give him some advice: Get rid of Amber Rose!
I’mma tell you how she get down
I was at Dig’s afterparty, sippin’ Cris
She was whisperin’ to Chris Brown
I seen Chris turn his head like “No!”
Then Gold Digger came on, I pointed like, “Hoe!”
But this ain’t ’bout her, this about Hov
I’mma chop down the Roc and take it to the stove
I apologize to B, ’cause this about Hov
I’ma chop down the Roc and take it to the stove
“D.O.A.?” No! T-Pain stays, old nigga goes
I’m so wavy too hardcore to be a Jay-Z
All up in your ear like Drake beats
So the nigga that cut ‘Ye couldn’t fade me
You took a shot and the shit grazed me
I wet up your block just like the Navy
Put a label on the shit and write “Play Me”
DJs go in, DJs go in
Cause I'm so..

Funk Flex, you my nigga. Clue, what up? DJ Enuff. I know y’all can’t play this shit. It’s too wavy. And Jay your boy, it’s all good though, y’all still my niggas. DJ Drama, Kay Slay, lock in. I mean, this shit so hot DJ Whoooooo Kid might spin this shit at 50’s birthday party. DJ Skee! Khaled know we the best! Yo, Don Cannon, Cannon! I know y’all niggas locked in

DJ Chris Styles! Young Legend, Nu Jerzey Devil. DJ Felli Fel! Ed Deluxe, D Man, ride this shit straight through Big Boy Neighborhood! Kid Capri, tell Hovi Hov leave that young nigga alone! I mean, DJ Red Alert, what up OG? RED Album comin’ soon

I see you downloadin’ my swag, camelface. Blueprint 3 gon’ sell more cigarettes than it do records, nigga. Now I know why the taxes went up on tobacco, motherfucker

Heard ’bout your little fight backstage with Kanye, too. I got a million dollars say Kanye knocked that nigga the fuck out. Just tryna make good music, is all he tryna do. Shit, ‘choo fuckin’ with ‘Ye for? “D.O.A.” nigga? Please. I love 808s and Heartbreaks, nigga Love Lockdown my shit

And tell the world why Chris Brown wasn’t at the BET Awards? This nigga told BET if they let Chris Breezy, him and Beyonce stayin’ at home, ol’ bitter ass nigga

Nigga, Dame, man, that’s your man. You and Dame was mans and ‘em. You and Dame used to be tighter than giraffe pussy and shit. You know your man having financial problems and shit. You number one on the Forbes list, nigga, you make 35 million and shit. Give a nigga a milli or sum’. I’d give it to him myself, but shit, I was only #13, nigga, on the list, way down there with Jeezy and shit, earned 7 million this year so far. But I’m on tour, nigga, Lamborghini Tour, live from Switzerland, I gets it in. Shit, I could use 28 more million. But I wouldn’t trade spots with you on the motheruckin’ Forbes list for that nose and them lips, nigga. My nigga Jay

And last but not least, peace to M.I.A., cause the Roc about to be MIA
No one on the corner got a swagger like you, ’cause no one on the fuckin’ corner is 42