If you’re havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one
[Verse One]
I got the rap patrol on the gat patrol
Foes that wanna make sure my casket’s closed
Rap critics they 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 be celebrating 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
I got beef with radio if I don’t play they show
They don’t play my hits 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
[Chorus]
99 problems but the bitch aint one
If you’re havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
[Verse Two]
The year’s ’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 double put the pedal to the floor
Now I ain’t tryin’ to see no highway chase with 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 why I’m stoppin’ you for?"
Cause I’m young and I’m black and my hats real low?
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-fo’ "
"Liscense and registration and step out of the car"
"Are you carryin’ a weapon on you I know a lot of you are"
I ain’t steppin out of shit all my paper’s legit
"Well, do you mind if I look round the car a little bit?"
Well my glove compartment is locked so are 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’?"
"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 K9 come"
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one
Hit me
[Chorus]
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
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
[Verse Three]
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 ignore him and talk to the Lord
Pray for him, cause 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’ma get to clappin
He and his boys gon 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 scratchin again
Paparazzi’s 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 harrasin’ them
Tryin to play the boy like hes saccarin
But ain’t nothin sweet ’bout how I hold my gun
I got 99 problems being a bitch ain’t one.
Hit me
[Chorus X3]
You’re crazy for this one Rick
It’s your boy