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[somebody whispering]
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Somebody's pulling me closer to the ground
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I ain't panicked, I been here before
|
Seems like only yesterday when I got up on that stage
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In front of that crowd
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And showed them who was who, and what was what
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Man look at these suckers
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I ain't no rapper, I'm a hustler
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It just so happens that I know how to rap
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Okay, I'm reloaded!
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(music drops in)
|
|
[Jay-Z]
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I did it again niggaz
|
Fucked up, right? I know
|
I know what y'all niggaz asking yourself
|
Is he gonna ever fall off?
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No...
|
|
...a lot of speculation
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on the monies I've made, honeys I've slayed
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How is he for real? Is that nigga really paid?
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Hustlers I've met or, dealt with direct
|
Is it true he slay the beef and slept with a tech?
|
What's the position you hold? Can you really match
|
a triple platinum artist buck by buck by only a single goin gold?
|
Roc-A-Fella ship fold, and you're left out in the cold
|
Is it back to charging motherfuckers 11 for an O
|
For the millionth time askin me
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Questions like Wendy Williams, harrassin me
|
then get upset when I catch feelings
|
Can I get a minute to breathe? And in that minute you leave
|
While I'm looking at my Rol' ice spinnin on my sleeve
|
Uh, nice watch, do you really have a spot?
|
Like you said in Friend or Foe and if so, what block?
|
What you doin in L.A., with phillipinos and ese's
|
Latinos and Cheve's, down by Pico withh Frederico
|
I answer all your questions but then y'all got to go
|
Now the question I ask you is how bad you want to know? BLAOW!
|
|
Roc-A-Fella y'all, uhh, uh
|
Know my style
|
|
Motherfuckers can't rhyme no more, bout crime no more
|
Til I'm no more, cause I'm so raw
|
My flow expose holes that they find in yours
|
Wasn't for me, niggaz still be dying for whores
|
But I hate when a nigga sit back, admirin yours
|
Young blood you better get that, we frying baccars
|
Niggaz don't want to be confined to riding the iron horse
|
And don't listen to the rappers, they dying to floss
|
I used to be O.T., applyin the force
|
Shoot up the whole block, then the iron I toss
|
Come back with the click playing Diana Ross
|
I'm the boss and this is how it's gonna be
|
Burnt the turnpike, wild miles on the V
|
I got mouths to feed till they put flowers on me
|
And kiss my cold cheek, chicks crying like I was Cochise
|
Tombstone read 'He Was Holdin No Leaks'
|
Started from the crack game and then so sweet
|
Freaked it to the rap game, Jigga the old-G
|
On MTV, telling em how I sold D
|
And used to back work up out of apartment 4-B
|
Me and my homie, started out coldies
|
Picked the mailbox lock cause I ain't have no key
|
Had the cable with the anchor when Jaz made 'Sophie'
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Then I went low key, but now I'm back it's on
|
Motherfuckers
|
Jigga, uh-huh, yeah
|
Roc-A-Fella y'all
|
Uhh, feel this
|
|
|
|
-----------------
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A Million And One Questions/Rhyme No More
|
| Jay-Z |
