Letra Stop de R. Kelly original

Intro: Tone (R. Kelly)>
Yo, Duro, tell Rob to hurry up back in the booth, man
We got the Track joint
Yo, this Tone the referee, while I got your attention
I gotta we set out to bring you the best possible heat
For your two step, me, Jigga and Kells
You know, so y'all just enjoy, aight
Yo, Rob you there? (Yeah) Your mic sound nice (uh-huh uh-huh)
You first to blow (yeah) Ight, you ready to blow (uh-huh)
Aight, let's go

Chorus: R. Kelly>
Hold up, wait a minute, stop
Jigga, I'm about to put the shit down
Hold up, wait a minute, stop
I'm about to, make these niggaz get down
Hold up, wait a minute, stop
Guaranteed, these niggaz gonna feel us
Hold up, wait a minute, stop
Tone and Poke, blow the motherfuckin' speakers

R. Kelly>
Grab a bottle, get two models
Thugs at Apollo's, niggaz wanna follow
I'm about to show you, how wild it gets
That nigga Hov', is the craziest
Stop at the club, bout a quarter to six
With a bottle in my hand, yellin' 'Bitch, I'm rich'
Hey, y'all niggaz see me, I can't believe it
You startin' to sound like, you don't want it
Tony's on the drop, blue and yellow rocks
He keep yellin', stop, Sisqo's album flopped
What you wanna do, if you drinkin', I'm hangin' out with you
Five, four, three, two, one
Hang on y'all, let's have some fun

Chorus>

Jay-Z>
It's Young... uh, mack alone, I'm back in the zone
I'm out they way, still these rappers won't leave me alone
I can give a fuck what these rappers sayin' bout me
That just let's me know, they can't go a day without me
Scared of me succeading, that's the reason you doubt me
Cuz if you ain't believe me, you wouldn't be thinkin' bout me
Sorta how like you, never crossed my mind
Until you crossed the line, stop...
Then I gotta come accross a rhyme
To let the world know you come across a mime
I do so much sauce with lines, with someone who saws my climb
From Marcy to party, where you soakin' up blue nine
Prude, am I, got a du-lema, I'm a dude from the hood
Who loves jewels, who am I?
You where placed in the same shoes, size 10/5
With a sick view, of the place you grew, dude, can I
Live, what I did, for this whole rap circus
I open up more doors for y'all fuckers than car service
Ya'll nervous, I ain't back yet
I'm on extended vaca', I ain't unpack yet, stop worrying

R. Kelly>
Five, four, three, two, one
Hang on y'all, let's have some fun

Chorus>

Foxy Brown>
Shit, she back with the nigga inf dot
Uh-oh, somebody better tell this broad
I'm a nine year veteran, I'm back with my breathren
I sware to god, it feel like '96 again
Bitches snatchin' bags, see, they fuckin' with my shit again
We bout to let them hammers pop
In the 'Stuy, dudes, callin', you a problem, Fox'
I got the automore pierre watch
Butterscotch, GT, good toe on, three eight cock
Ya'll ain't see this much love since they cried for 'Pac
Since Big passed, or since Jay passed the Roc
I'm in a clearport, full length mink in a G4
Fuck I'm lookin' like rhyming for a hundred g's, for?
No, I don't talk to media guys
I don't chatter with the best, ain't no question whose the best
Shawn and Kelly, Fox, best of both worlds, I see y'all
Aiyo, Kel, nigga, holler at your peoples

R. Kelly>
Five, four, three, two, one
Hang on y'all, let's have some fun

Chorus>