DEAD PRESIDENTS Lyrics by JAŸ-Z
“Dead Presidents” is the iconic 1996 debut promotional single from JAŸ-Z (formerly Jay-Z), widely regarded as a foundation of the “mafioso rap” subgenre. Produced by Ski Beatz.
DEAD PRESIDENTS Lyrics by JAŸ-Z
Presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose)
Rock on, Roc-A-Fella y’all
While others spit that Wonderama shit, me and my conglomerate
Shall remain anonymous, caught up in the finest shit
Live out my dreams until my heart give out
Involved with cream, you know exactly what this shit’s about
Fuck y’all mean? Handling since a teen, I dish out
Like the point guard off your favorite team, without doubt
My life ain’t rosy but I roll with it
My mind was fine ’til the dough hit it and told me that the Mo’ did it
And now it’s kosher, shit is so Hasidic
I blow a digit on a diamond in a minute but, no bitches
Watch how I’m walking, ’cause even the thoroughest niggas be NARC’in
Trying to strike a bargain, hoping that they might get pardoned
Shit I’m involved with got me pins and needles
And my cerebral breeds the wickedest evil, thoughts that this sport’ll feed you
Peep facts, in the game so deep fiends could catch a
Freeze off my kneecap, can y’all believe that?
Got the city drinking Cristals, re-up the fee
Rappers going broke trying to keep up with me
My rise to riches surprised the bitches: think harder
You know this nigga: JAY-Z, Shawn Carter
G.S. the fuck up, dree-ess the fuck up
Watch me shine like a Breitling, Breguets the fuck up
All rhymers forget it like Alzheimer’s
Small timers, I said it, I’m addressing all drama
Talk to me!
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose)
So sick of niggas
“I want money like Cosby” Who wouldn’t?
This the kinda talk that make me think you probably ain’t got no pudding
Niggas got them kinda dreams from jail
You in the streets, nigga, make your moves, get your mail
Niggas’ll coast in the SL but can’t post bail
Niggas’ll roast a L, but scared to throw your toast, well
I’m here to tell niggas it ain’t all swell
There’s heaven, then there’s hell, niggas
One day you’re cruising in your 7, next day, you’re sweating, forgetting your lies
Alibis ain’t matching up, bullshit catching up
Hit with the RICO, they repo your vehicle
Everything was all good just a week ago
‘Bout to start bitching, ain’t you? Ready to start snitching, ain’t you?
I’ll forgive your weak ass: hustling just ain’t you
Aside from the fast cars, honies that shake their ass at bars
You know you wouldn’t be involved
With the underworld dealers, carriers of MAC-millers
East Coast bodiers, West Coast cap-peelers
Little monkey niggas turn gorillas
Stopped in the station, filled up on octane, and now they’re not sane
And not playing, that goes without saying
Slaying day in and day out, when money play in, then they play you out
Trying to escape my own mind, lurking the enemy
Representing infinity with presidencies, you know?
Dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose)
Dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose)
Dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose)
Dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get Money!)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)
I’m out for presidents to repres
ent me (Get money!)
I’m out for dead fucking presidents to represent me (Whose)
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