Em G
Got the rock patrol on the gat patrol
D
Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed
Em G
Critics are saying he's "money, cash, hoes,
D
"From the hood, stupid, what types of facts are those?"
Em G
If you grew up with holes in your Zapatos
D
You'd celebrate the minute you was havin' dough
Em G
I'm like "Fuck you critics, kiss my whole asshole"
D
If you don't like my lyrics you can press fast-forward
Em G
I've got beef with radio if I don't play their show
D
They don't play my hits, but I don't give a shit, so
Em G
Rap mags try and use my black ass
D
So advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads
Em G
I don't know what you take me as
D
Or understand the intelligence Jay-Z has
Em G
I'm from rags to riches, nigger, I ain't dumb
D
I got ninety nine problems and a bitch ain't one
Em G
I got ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one
D
If you're having girl problems, I feel bad for you son
Em G
I got ninety nine problems but a bitch ain't one
Em G
Once upon a time not too long ago
D
A nigger like myself had to strong arm a ho
Em G
This is not a ho in the sense of havin' a pussy
D
But a pussy having no goddamn sense, try and push me
Em G
I tried to ignore it, pray to the lord
D
Pray for him, cause some fools love to perform
Em G
You know the type, loud as a motorbike
D
But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight
Em G
And the only thing that's gonna happen
D
Is that I'm gonna get to clappin'
Em G
He and his boys gonna be yappin' to the captain
D
And there I go trapped in the Kit Kat again
Em G
Back through the system with the riff raff again
D
Fiends on the floor, scratching again
Em G
Paparazzis with their cameras, snapping at them
D
D.A. tried to give a nigga a shaft again
Em G
A million for bail cause I'm African
D
All because the fools harassin'
Em G
Try to play the boy like he's saccharin
D
But ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
Em G D
Ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
Em G D
Ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
Em G D
Ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
Em G D
Ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
Em G D
Nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
Em G D
Ain't nothing sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
Em
I got a ninety nine problems
G D Em
But being a bitch ain't one