Z - S. Carter Collection Mixtape

Only a Customer

by JAY Z

on Z - S. Carter Collection Mixtape (2003)

[Intro: Jay-Z]
Ha ha, ha ha, Roc-A-Fella y'all
Futuristic shit, bee-atch
Uh, what the fuck? How we do, how we do
Uh huh, uh huh

[Verse 1: Jay-Z]
It's the eventual triple platinum nigga with the solid gold fade
All that nickle and dime shit, don't hold no weight
Fortune 5, top 5 in the Forbes (you'll see)
As you thumb through The Source I read the Robb Report
Class C, cold me down with the plastic
That's all I ask of you, like Raphael Saadiq
At the Hotel Nikko, Robert Duvall suite
My people's eyes through the peep hole
I'm loving you down freak, as I
Shoot through the city like a rumor
Not soon enough, to stop 'em from spreading the news
The newspaper heading read "Jay-Z breathes, 80 degrees
Only thing to cool him off is a Malibu Bay Breeze"
Can't stop for the Feds, say cheese
You know they wanna take a nigga picture
Pray for the day to get ya, but I'ma parlay and stay richer for now
Jigga hasn't done dirt in a while
You know my stomach getting weak from living on the streets
For real, trying to oversee it from suites, ordering eats
At the top where the real criminal minds meet
That's where the cream is (right?!)
That's where your dream is (well ain't it?)

[Chorus: Jay-Z, LL Cool J & Mary J. Blige]
You're only a customer (uh)
Walkin' in the presence of hustlers
You spend money all night long
(All night long)

[Verse 2: Jay-Z & Irv Gotti]
Yeah, a-yo my youth had a nigga too aggressive, ha
I use to speed excessive, both eyes closed
No thought infested
Hittin' pot holes, cop-o's'll snatch your away
What you deem most precious
Had to rethink things, is pinky ring worth
Life on the run and time served in Sing Sing
I don't know to tell the truth
If I'm pressed for dough, I got to consult Irv Gotti y'all
Heads got to roll
I was raised to live, Lord I pray you forgive
If not, I just handle it like Jason Kidd
What you're facing is official (it's official)
In most cases when I'm blazing won't miss you (won't miss you)
Case and point made bullshit a issue, I see it to the end
My writing so personal, my heart bleeding through the pen
Make no mistake about me
It's only one nigga living, I got half a cake about me
I got love, I can kill a friend over fam not drugs
And very, few people understand that love
To make a nigga die bleeding is nothing (nothing)
You make a motherfucker die breathing
Then you saying something, beeotch

[Chorus: Jay-Z, LL Cool J & Mary J. Blige]
You're only a customer (uh)
Walkin' in the presence of hustlers
You spend money all night long
(All night long)
You're only a customer (uh)
Walkin' in the presence of hustlers
You spend money all night long
(All night long)
You're only a customer (uh)
Walkin' in the presence of hustlers
You spend money all night long
(All night long)

[Verse 3: Jay-Z]
Roc-A-Fella...
More flavor than y'all can image having
Graphic like Sega, Saturn, traffic like the Bodega
It just so happens, you caught me at the the tail end of my dirt
My brain ain't right from inhaling the work all my life
Fuck it, greasy I, had the whole D.C. high
Pissy off Cristal, 3G's high
Seasoned Bacardi, VVS's
Blesses my body, we be fresh at the party
Play yourself go 'head if you don't no the ledge
It's like spitting to God
Get it in your face fucking with niggas over your head
Take your time with me, shifty
Used to make Coke stretch like the sampling a 950
Shit with that, while I'm on a Kawasaki bike
At the light, doing a pike, with a bitch on the back
And take flight, my life like it was directed by Hype
In 35 slow-mo, with the Roc-A-Fella logo
Accapoco to Aruba, Bay Breezes and caviar beluga
Very little loot eludes us
In the grayish blueish L-e-x Coupe
It's the root of evil in these people, what the fuck?

[Chorus: Jay-Z, LL Cool J & Mary J. Blige]
You're only a customer (uh)
Walkin' in the presence of hustlers
You spend money all night long
(All night long)
You're only a customer (uh)
Walkin' in the presence of hustlers
You spend money all night long
(All night long)
You're only a customer (uh)
Walkin' in the presence of hustlers
You spend money all night long
(All night long)

[Outro: Jay-Z]
Roc-A-Fella, uh huh, uh huh
Futuristic shit

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