Jay-Z – 99 Problems Lyrics

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[Hook]
If you're having girl problems I feel bad for you, son
I've got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one


[Verse 1]
I've 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 your zapatos
You'd celebrate the minute you was having 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 if 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 riches, niggas I ain't dumb
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me!

[Verse 2]
The year is '94, in my trunk is raw
In my rearview mirror is the motherfucking law
Got two choices y'all, pull over the car or
Bounce on the devil, put the pedal to the floor

And I ain't tryna 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, I heard
"Son do you know why I'm stopping you for?"
Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hat's real low
Do I look like a mind reader sir? I don't know
Am I under arrest or should I guess some more?

"Well you was doing 55 in a 54
License and registration and step out of the car
Are you carrying a weapon on you?
I know a lot of you are"
I ain't stepping out of shit, all my papers legit!
"Well, do you mind if I look around the car a little bit?"
Well, my glove compartment is locked, so is the trunk in 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, somebody important or something?"

Well, I ain't passed the Bar, but I know a little bit
Enough that you won't illegally search my shit

"Well we'll see how smart you are when the canine come"
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me!

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
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 having a pussy
But a pussy having no goddamn sense,
try and push me
I try to ignore him, talk to the Lord
Pray for him, but some fools just love to perform
You know the type, loud as a motorbike
But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight
And only thing that's gon' happen is I'mma get to clappin' and
He and his boys gonna 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, scratching again
Paparazzis with they cameras, snapping 'em
D.A. try to give a nigga shaft again
Half a mil' for bail cause I'm African

All because this fool was harassing them
Tryna play the boy like he's saccharine
But ain't nothing sweet bout how I hold my gun

I got 99 problems, being a bitch ain't one, hit me!

[Hook]

[Outro]
You crazy for this one Rick! It's your boy!

Legend has it that the second verse of this song is based on Jay’s ACTUAL drug dealing experiences in 1994: the cops wanted to search his car (loaded with cocaine), he refused, they waited for drug-sniffing dogs that never showed up, and Jay got away with it

He’s lucky it happened in ‘94: when this song came out, the police needed an “articulable suspicion” to search your car with canines (so Jay would’ve been protected by the 4th Amendment!) Sadly, the assholes on the Roberts court have changed all that (see Becoats v. Georgia)

Jay went old-school for the beat — he grabbed Rick Rubin, the guy who founded Def Jam with Russell Simmons and produced most of the Beastie Boys' early discography, among other things

The video became controversial for its ending, where Jay gets shot in a metaphorical end to his rap career. The clip was only aired with a disclaimer in which MTV’s head of programming defended its artistic value

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