Les paroles de la chanson
« 99 problems »
Jay-Z
You’re havin’ girl problems I feel 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 ya zapatos
You’d celebrate the minute you was havin’ dough
I’m like fuck critics you can kiss my whole asshole
If you don’t like my lyrics you can press fast forward
Got beef with radio; 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 take me as
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
I’m from rags to ritches niggas I ain’t dumb
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
{Refrain:}
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 ’94 and my trunk is raw
In my rear view mirror is the mother fuckin’ law
I got two choices y’all pull over the car or (hmmm)
Bounce on the devil put the pedal to the floor
Now i ain’t tryin’ to see no highway chase for 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 hats real low
But do I look like a mind reader sir, I don’t know
Am I under arrest or should I guess some mo’?
"Well you was doin fifty-five in a fifty-four"
"Liscense and registration and step out of the car"
"Are you carryin’ a weapon on you I know alot of you are"
I ain’t steppin out of shit all my papers legit
"Do you mind if I look round the car a little bit?"
Well my glove compartment is locked so is the trunk and the back
And I know my rights so you gon’ need a warrant for that
"Aren’t you sharp as a tack, you some type of lawyer or something’?"
"Or somebody important or somethin’?"
Nah I ain’t pass 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 K-9 come"
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
{au Refrain, x2}
Now once upon a time not too long ago
A nigga like myself had to strong arm a hoe
This is not a hoe in the sense of havin’ a pussy
But a pussy havin’ no God damn sense, try and push me
I tried to inore him and talk to the Lord
Pray for him, but some fools just love to perform
You know the type loud as a motor bike
But wouldn’t bust a grape in a fruit fight
The only thing that’s gonna happen is I’mma get to clappin’’n’
He and his boys gon’ be yappin’ to the captain
And there I go traped 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
D.A. tried to give the nigga shaft again
Half-a-mil for bail cause I’m African
All because this fool was harrassin’ them
Tryin’ to play the boy like hes saccharin’
But ain’t nothin’ sweet ’bout how I hold my gun
I got 99 problems, bein’ a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
{au Refrain, x3}
Your crazy for this one, Rick!
Its’ ya boy you’re havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one
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 ya zapatos
You’d celebrate the minute you was havin’ dough
I’m like fuck critics you can kiss my whole asshole
If you don’t like my lyrics you can press fast forward
Got beef with radio; 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 take me as
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
I’m from rags to ritches niggas I ain’t dumb
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
{Refrain:}
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 ’94 and my trunk is raw
In my rear view mirror is the mother fuckin’ law
I got two choices y’all pull over the car or (hmmm)
Bounce on the devil put the pedal to the floor
Now i ain’t tryin’ to see no highway chase for 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 hats real low
But do I look like a mind reader sir, I don’t know
Am I under arrest or should I guess some mo’?
"Well you was doin fifty-five in a fifty-four"
"Liscense and registration and step out of the car"
"Are you carryin’ a weapon on you I know alot of you are"
I ain’t steppin out of shit all my papers legit
"Do you mind if I look round the car a little bit?"
Well my glove compartment is locked so is the trunk and the back
And I know my rights so you gon’ need a warrant for that
"Aren’t you sharp as a tack, you some type of lawyer or something’?"
"Or somebody important or somethin’?"
Nah I ain’t pass 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 K-9 come"
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
{au Refrain, x2}
Now once upon a time not too long ago
A nigga like myself had to strong arm a hoe
This is not a hoe in the sense of havin’ a pussy
But a pussy havin’ no God damn sense, try and push me
I tried to inore him and talk to the Lord
Pray for him, but some fools just love to perform
You know the type loud as a motor bike
But wouldn’t bust a grape in a fruit fight
The only thing that’s gonna happen is I’mma get to clappin’’n’
He and his boys gon’ be yappin’ to the captain
And there I go traped 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
D.A. tried to give the nigga shaft again
Half-a-mil for bail cause I’m African
All because this fool was harrassin’ them
Tryin’ to play the boy like hes saccharin’
But ain’t nothin’ sweet ’bout how I hold my gun
I got 99 problems, bein’ a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
{au Refrain, x3}
Your crazy for this one, Rick!
Its’ ya boy you’re havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one
