I’m So Wavy (Jay-Z Diss) lyrics

n*ggas pop tags, I pop the four-five
n*ggas got swag, I got the Tek-9
n*ggas got cash better run it
Only dubs and hundreds, I don’t do fifties, n*gga
And I don’t do 50-year-old Jiggas
Off that boss black Lamborghini, interior soft crack
Louis V golf hat, feelin’ like a Tiger
I made something out of nothin’ like MacGyver
Started from an eighth, flipped it to a key
I got ‘em like ay, trappin’ like Gucci
Plus I get more green than bleu cheese
And I keep a red bandana in my blue jeans
So, n*gga calm your nerves, with all that absurd
Far from the curb bullsh*t slash spoken word
You nerd I’m from the same city as Venus and Serena
So don’t get served I’m so wavy, I don't need no yacht
Ain’t no Big Pimpin' on my block
But I’m an underground king, peace to Pimp C, yeah
Catch me ridin’ through the hood, 20-10 Bentley
You got cheese and I kill rats
Translation: I still trap now do something with that
Or respond to this and with them big-ass lips
You got my name in your mouth I hope it tastes like this—Ahh
No homo, one more time—Ahh that’s your promo
And I been hard to the core since I went solo
Only man on my horse like my all-black Polo
And where I’m ’bout to go is usually a no-no
But I’m loco, got the camel in a chokehold
Tryna son me, I’m not from NYC
You can’t even have a child by your Destiny
And I ain’t mean to take a shot at B
I blacked out like you did Free
‘Cause I’m so wavy
Too hardcore to be a Jay-Z
Rock more red than Weezy Baby
Please say the Baby
Been around for years, so b*tch, don’t Drake me
And this is not a diss
‘Cause I was just out in LA with Drake, b*tch
And no disrespect to G and Hip-Hop
But n*gga I’m a G and I’m doing this for hip-hop
And that’s ‘Ye’s brother, and ‘Ye my n*gga so
I’mma give him some advice: Get rid of Amber Rose!
I’mma tell you how she get down
I was at Dig’s afterparty, sippin’ Cris
She was whisperin’ to Chris Brown
I seen Chris turn his head like “No!”
Then Gold Digger came on, I pointed like, “Hoe!”
But this ain’t ’bout her, this about Hov
I’mma chop down the Roc and take it to the stove
I apologize to B, ’cause this about Hov
I’ma chop down the Roc and take it to the stove
“D.O.A.?” No! T-Pain stays, old n*gga goes
I’m so wavy too hardcore to be a Jay-Z
All up in your ear like Drake beats
So the n*gga that cut ‘Ye couldn’t fade me
You took a shot and the sh*t grazed me
I wet up your block just like the Navy
Put a label on the sh*t and write “Play Me”
DJs go in, DJs go in
Cause I'm so..
Funk Flex, you my n*gga. Clue, what up? DJ Enuff. I know y’all can’t play this sh*t. It’s too wavy. And Jay your boy, it’s all good though, y’all still my n*ggas. DJ Drama, Kay Slay, lock in. I mean, this sh*t so hot DJ Whoooooo Kid might spin this sh*t at 50’s birthday party. DJ Skee! Khaled know we the best! Yo, Don Cannon, Cannon! I know y’all n*ggas locked in


DJ Chris Styles! Young Legend, Nu Jerzey Devil. DJ Felli Fel! Ed Deluxe, D Man, ride this sh*t straight through Big Boy Neighborhood! Kid Capri, tell Hovi Hov leave that young n*gga alone! I mean, DJ Red Alert, what up OG? RED Album comin’ soon


I see you downloadin’ my swag, camelface. Blueprint 3 gon’ sell more cigarettes than it do records, n*gga. Now I know why the taxes went up on tobacco, motherf*cker

Heard ’bout your little fight backstage with Kanye, too. I got a million dollars say Kanye knocked that n*gga the f*ck out. Just tryna make good music, is all he tryna do. sh*t, ‘choo f*ckin’ with ‘Ye for? “D.O.A.” n*gga? Please. I love 808s and Heartbreaks, n*gga Love Lockdown my sh*t

And tell the world why Chris Brown wasn’t at the BET Awards? This n*gga told BET if they let Chris Breezy, him and Beyonce stayin’ at home, ol’ bitter ass n*gga

n*gga, Dame, man, that’s your man. You and Dame was mans and ‘em. You and Dame used to be tighter than giraffe pus*y and sh*t. You know your man having financial problems and sh*t. You number one on the Forbes list, n*gga, you make 35 million and sh*t. Give a n*gga a milli or sum’. I’d give it to him myself, but sh*t, I was only #13, n*gga, on the list, way down there with Jeezy and sh*t, earned 7 million this year so far. But I’m on tour, n*gga, Lamborghini Tour, live from Switzerland, I gets it in. sh*t, I could use 28 more million. But I wouldn’t trade spots with you on the motheruckin’ Forbes list for that nose and them lips, n*gga. My n*gga Jay

And last but not least, peace to M.I.A., cause the Roc about to be MIA
No one on the corner got a swagger like you, ’cause no one on the f*ckin’ corner is 42