• • • •

If you're havin' girl problems

I feel bad for you, son

I got ninety-nine problems

but a b**ch 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 your zapatos

you'd celebrate the minute

you was havin' dough

I'm like, f**k critics

you can kiss

my whole a**hole

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 sh*t, so

Rap mags try

and use my black a**

so, advertisers can give 'em

more cash for ads... f**kers

I don't know

what you take me as

or understand

the intelligence

that Jay-Z has

I'm from rags to riches

ni***rs, I ain't dumb

I got ninety-nine problems

but a bitch ain't one, hit me

Ninety-nine problems

but a b**ch ain't one

if you havin' girl problems

I feel bad for you, son

I got ninety-nine problems

but a b**ch ain't one, hit me

The year is ninety-four

and my trunk is raw

in my rear-view mirror

is the mother-f**kin' law

I got two choices, y'all

pull over the car or

bounce on the double

put the pedal to the floor

Now, I ain't try'na see

no highway chase with Jake

plus, I got a few dollars

I could fight the case

So, I... pull over

to the side of the road

I heard...

'Cause I'm young and I'm black

and my hat's real low

but do I look

like a mind reader

sir, I don't know

Am I under arrest or

should I guess some more

a-ha

I ain't steppin' out of sh*t

all my paper's legit

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, ha!

Nah, I ain't passed the bar

but I know a little bit

enough that you won't

illegally search my sh*t

I got ninety-nine problems

but a bitch ain't one, hit me

Ninety-nine problems

but a b**ch ain't one

if you havin' girl problems

I feel bad for you, son

I got ninety-nine problems

but a b**ch ain't one, hit me

Ninety-nine problems

but a b**ch ain't one

if you havin' girl problems

I feel bad for you, son

I got ninety-nine problems

but a b**ch ain't one, hit me

Now once upon a time

not too long ago

a ni***r like myself

had to strong arm a hoe

And this is not a hoe

in the sense of havin' a pu**y

but a pu**y havin'

no god-damn sense

try'na push me

I tried to ignore 'em

and talk to the Lord

pray for 'em

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

And the only thin'

that's gonna happen

is I'm-a get to clappin'

and 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 their

cameras snappin' them

D.A. tried to give

a ni***r shaft again

half-a-mill for bail

'cause I'm African

All because this fool

was harrassin' them

try'na play the boy

like he's saccharin

But ain't nothin' sweet

'bout how I hold my gun

I got ninety-nine problems

bein' a b**ch ain't one

hit me

Ninety-nine problems

but a b**ch ain't one

if you havin' girl problems

I feel bad for you, son

I got ninety-nine problems

but a b**ch ain't one, hit me

Ninety-nine problems

but a b**ch ain't one

if you havin' girl problems

I feel bad for you, son

I got ninety-nine problems

but a b**ch ain't one, hit me

Woo, woo, uh, uh

havin' girl problems

I feel bad for you, son

I got ninety-nine problems

and a b**ch ain't one, ha, ha

You're crazy

for this one, Rick

it's your boy