I ain't steppin' out of shit, all my papers legit
I got 99 problems B and a bitch ain't one, hit me
I'm from the hood stupid, what type of facts are those?
Back through the system with the riff-raff again
Fiends on the floor, scratchin' again
If you don't like my lyrics, you can press fast forward
A nigga like myself had to strong arm a hoe
And there I go, trapped in the Kit-Kat again
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
So I pull over to the side of the road
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
I'm from, rags to riches, niggaz I ain't dumb
Havin' girl problems I feel bad for you son
I try to ignore him, talk to the Lord
Well we'll see how smart you are when the canine comes
And I know my rights, so you gon' need a warrant for that
But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight
If you grew up with holes in your zapper toes
If you havin' girl problems I feel bad for you son
Got two choices y'all, pull over the car or
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
You know the type, loud as a motorbike
Am I under arrest or should I guess some mo'?
If you havin' girl problems I feel bad for you son
But ain't nuttin' sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
If you havin' girl problems I feel bad for you son
In my rear view mirror is the motherfuckin' law
Or do I look like a mind reader sir? I don't know
Well you was doin fifty-five in the fifty-four
I don't know what you take me as
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
Now once upon a time, not too long ago
License and registration and step out of the car
This is not a hoe in the sense of havin' a pussy
D.A. try to give a nigga shaft again
Son do you know why I'm stoppin' you for?
Well do you mind if I look around the car a little bit?
Half a mill' for bail 'cause I'm African
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
I got 99 problems and a bitch ain't one, ha ha
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed
Child I ain't passed the bar, but I know a little bit
Are you carryin' a weapon on you? I know a lot of you are
Paparazzis with they cameras, snappin' them
Aren't you sharp as a tack, you should try out
The year is ninety-four, in my trunk is raw
Enough that you won't illegally search my shit
For lawyer or somethin', somebody important or somethin'
Tryin' to play the boy like he's saccharin'
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
Bounce on the Devil, put the pedal to the floor
He and his boys gon' be yappin' to the Captain
All because this fool was harassin' them
Plus I got a few dollars, I can fight the case
I'm like fuck critics, you can kiss my whole asshole
If you havin' girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
Or understand the intelligence that Jay-Z has
'Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hat's real low
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
Rap critics that say he's 'Money, Cash, Hoes'
I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one, hit me
Got beef with radio if I don't play they show
And only thing that's gon' happen is I'ma get to clappin' and
Rap mags try and use my black ass
And I ain't tryin' to see no highway chase with Jake
I got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol
If you havin' girl problems I feel bad for you son
They don't play my hits, well I don't give a shit, so
Pray for him, but some fools just love to perform
Well my glove compartment is locked, so is the trunk in the back
So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads, fuckers
You'd celebrate the minute you was havin' dough
But a pussy havin' no goddamn sense, try an' push me