The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
(Sauce Money)
I lay my gun fine, ideas be as bright as the sunshine
Shook the rap game with just one line
When me and my niggaz combine, all day, you know what?
Sometimes, I run with mad niggaz who done time
Hit you with eight, from one nine, now you showin the vein
My shells is like information, go in your brain
Holdin my slug, before you squeeze em show em the love
Burn your fingertips so throw em a glove, understand me
Before my album drop, cop the Grammy, uncanny
Bought my first Role' from Manny
Dirty burners my crew never hand me, nigga we family
You not, get shot, get caught slippin like Dexter Manley
with at least ten lead, spray right, paint your skin red
Damn we, all the shit you can't be
We big time, you small time, real small like how an ant be
Marcy, bust a shot for Metcalf, Tilo and Danny
Peace to the Bureils, Cut Wop and Stanley
Boom Moet and bow, my whole set is wild
Past threats, frontin flash singles and that's bent
Fuck a bitch, you know the drill
Cut a chick or a suck a dick
(Jay-Z)
Jigga, what the fuck?
As a youth explosively, clappin off the roof
Shootin guard like Kobe, raised up slay smears and bo'e
Back then, Gil was my codiene, Spanish Jose
showed me how to get the money niggaz owed me
Fast forward, no kids, six cars and three Role's
Two cribs, trips to Cuba, sippin on Uba
Got rap in a stupor, first to clap your group up
from the Range with the ski rack, or six with the Ruger
Shit, I light the motherfuckin soundproof booth up
New shit, why'all say the same shit like you're looped up
Your rap's all lazy, Jigga the Black Scorcese
What your album lack is more Jay-Z
Code name: Jay-hovah, all praise me
Why'all don't paint pictures, why'all all trace me
You've yet to see the day when my squad be done
I represent that shit nigga, Marcy son, what?
I lay my gun fine, ideas be as bright as the sunshine
Shook the rap game with just one line
When me and my niggaz combine, all day, you know what?
Sometimes, I run with mad niggaz who done time
Hit you with eight, from one nine, now you showin the vein
My shells is like information, go in your brain
Holdin my slug, before you squeeze em show em the love
Burn your fingertips so throw em a glove, understand me
Before my album drop, cop the Grammy, uncanny
Bought my first Role' from Manny
Dirty burners my crew never hand me, nigga we family
You not, get shot, get caught slippin like Dexter Manley
with at least ten lead, spray right, paint your skin red
Damn we, all the shit you can't be
We big time, you small time, real small like how an ant be
Marcy, bust a shot for Metcalf, Tilo and Danny
Peace to the Bureils, Cut Wop and Stanley
Boom Moet and bow, my whole set is wild
Past threats, frontin flash singles and that's bent
Fuck a bitch, you know the drill
Cut a chick or a suck a dick
(Jay-Z)
Jigga, what the fuck?
As a youth explosively, clappin off the roof
Shootin guard like Kobe, raised up slay smears and bo'e
Back then, Gil was my codiene, Spanish Jose
showed me how to get the money niggaz owed me
Fast forward, no kids, six cars and three Role's
Two cribs, trips to Cuba, sippin on Uba
Got rap in a stupor, first to clap your group up
from the Range with the ski rack, or six with the Ruger
Shit, I light the motherfuckin soundproof booth up
New shit, why'all say the same shit like you're looped up
Your rap's all lazy, Jigga the Black Scorcese
What your album lack is more Jay-Z
Code name: Jay-hovah, all praise me
Why'all don't paint pictures, why'all all trace me
You've yet to see the day when my squad be done
I represent that shit nigga, Marcy son, what?
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
Pre-Game Lyrics as written by Jonathan Burks Spencer Bellamy
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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So, the first night was not a great start, but the narrator pursued the relationship and eventually both overcame the rough start to fall in love with each other:
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