If you’re havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one
[Verse One]
I got the rap patrol on the gat patrol
Foes that want ta 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 “Fuck critics—you can kiss my whole asshole
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 shit...so
Rap mags try and use my black ass
So advertisers can give ‘em more cash for ads...fuckers
I don't know what you take me as
Or understand the intellegence that Jay-Z has
I'm from rags to riches, niggas—I ain't dumb
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one
Hit me
[Chorus]
99 problems but a bitch ain't one
If you havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one
Hit me
[Verse Two]
Year’s '94 and my trunk is raw
In my rearview mirror is the motherfuckin’ law
I got two choices y’all: pull over the car or, hmm,
Bounce on the devil, put the pedal to the floor
Now I ain't tryin’ to 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 "Son, do you know why I'm stoppin’ you for?"
Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hat’s real low
Or do I look like a mindreader, sir? I don't know
Am I under arrest or should I guess some mo’?
"Well you was doin’ fifty-five in the fifty-four", uh huh
"License and registration and step out of the car
"Are you carryin’ a weapon on you, I know alot of you are"
I ain't steppin’ out of shit; all my papers legit
"Well do you mind if I look around the car a little bit?"
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
"Aren't you sharp as a tack? You some type of lawyer or somethin’?
"Somebody important or somethin’?"
Child, I ain't passed the bar, but I know a little bit
Enough that you won't illegally search my shit
"Well we’ll see how smart you are when the K-9 come"
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one
Hit me
[Chorus X2]
[Verse Three]
Now once upon a time not too long ago
A nigga like myself had to strongarm a ho
This is not a ho in the sense of havin’ a pussy
But a pussy havin’ no goddamn sense—try and push me
I tried to ignore ‘em, talk to the Lord
Pray for ‘em, cause some fools just love to perform
You know the type, loud as a motorbike
But wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight
The only thing that's gon’ happen is I’ma 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 they cameras, snappin’ them
D.A. tried to give a nigga shaft again
Half a mil for bail cause I'm African
All because this fool was harassin’ them
Tryin’ to play the boy like he’s saccharine
But ain't nothin’ sweet 'bout how I hold my gun
I got 99 problems—bein’ a bitch ain't one
Hit me
[Chorus X2]
Havin’ girl problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems an’ a bitch ain't one
You're crazy for this one, Rick
It's your boy