Soundtracks: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

List of artists: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


30 Something [Explicit] lyrics by Jay-Z

 

30 Something [Explicit] by Jay-Z


You ain't got enough stamps in your passport
To fuck with Young HO, international
Show young boys how to do this thing
The maturation of Jay-Zeezy, check me out
30's the new 20, nigga, I'm so hot still
Better broad, better automobile
Bet a yard, bet a hundred mil
Then by the song's end, I'll probably start another trend
I know ev'ry thing you wan' do
I did all that by the age of twenty one
By twenty two, I had that brand new Ac' Coupe
I guess you could say that my legend just begun
I'm young enough to know the right car to buy
Yet grown enough not to put rims on it
I got that six-deuce with curtains, so you can't see me
And I didn't even have to put tints on it
I don't got the bright watch, I got the right watch
I don't buy out the bar, I bought the nightspot
I got the right stock
I got stockbrokers that's movin' it like white tops
I know you like, “Fuck, this is child abuse
Call DYFS”, I must just be gettin' nicer
You young boys ain't ready fa' real
30's the new 20, nigga, I'm so hot still
I used to let my pants sag, not givin' a fuck
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
I used to cruise the used car lot, put chrome on the truck
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
I used to play the block like dat
I used to carry knots like dat
Now I got Black cards, good credit and such
Baby boy 'cause I'm all grown up
30's the new 20, nigga, I'm on fire still
These young boys is like fire drills
False alarms, the next don
He ain't got it, on to the next one
Still here, still here like Mike
Gotta stop playin' with these children
I'm a bully with the bucks
Don't let the patent leather shoes fool you, young'n
I got the fully in the tux
That was my past, now I'm so grown up
I don't got one gun on me
Gotta a sum army to hire a gun army, get you spun like laundry
And I'll be somewhere under palm trees, calmly listenin' to R&B
When we get the call, he's no longer wit us
Fire your babysitters
You little fucks fall back fa' real
30's the new 20, nigga, I'm so hot still
I used to let my pants sag, not givin' a fuck
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
I used to cruise the used car lot, put chrome on the truck
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
I used to wear my hoodie like that
Pile deep in a hooptie like that
Now I got Black cards, good credit and such
Baby boy 'cause I'm all grown up
Y'all roll blunts, I smoke Cubans all day
Y'all youngin's chase, I'm Patron and it's great
I like South Beach but I'm in St. Tropez
Y'all drink Dom but not Rosé
Your chick shop at the mall
My chick burn it down Bergdorf's
Comin' back with Birkin bags
Your chick is like, "What type of purse is that?"
I'm from the era where niggas don't snitch
You from the era where snitchin' is the shit
I'm afraid of the future
Y'all respect the one who got shot, I respect the shooter
Y'all go to parties to ice grill
I go to parties to party with nice girls
Young boys gotta chill
30's the new 20, nigga, I'm so hot still
I used to let my pants sag, not givin' a fuck
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
I used to cruise the used car lot, put chrome on the truck
Baby boy, now I'm all grown up
Yeah, we used to ball like that
Now we own the ball team, holla back
Now I got Black cards, good credit and such
Baby boy 'cause I'm all grown up



A-Z Lyrics Universe

Lyrics / song texts are property and copyright of their owners and provided for educational purposes.