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A Million And One Questions Rhyme No More (intro)
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Jay-Z
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1
[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
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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)
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[Jay-Z]
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I did it again niggaz
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Fucked up, right? I know
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I know what y'all niggaz asking yourself
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Is he gonna ever fall off?
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No...
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...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
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Is it true he slay the beef and slept with a tech?
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What's the position you hold? Can you really match
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a triple platinum artist buck by buck by only a single goin gold?
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Roc-A-Fella ship fold, and you're left out in the cold
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Is it back to charging motherfuckers 11 for an O
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For the millionth time askin me
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Questions like Wendy Williams, harrassin me
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then get upset when I catch feelings
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Can I get a minute to breathe? And in that minute you leave
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While I'm looking at my Rol' ice spinnin on my sleeve
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Uh, nice watch, do you really have a spot?
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Like you said in Friend or Foe and if so, what block?
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What you doin in L.A., with phillipinos and ese's
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Latinos and Cheve's, down by Pico withh Frederico
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I answer all your questions but then y'all got to go
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Now the question I ask you is how bad you want to know? BLAOW!
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Roc-A-Fella y'all, uhh, uh
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Know my style
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Motherfuckers can't rhyme no more, bout crime no more
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Til I'm no more, cause I'm so raw
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My flow expose holes that they find in yours
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Wasn't for me, niggaz still be dying for whores
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But I hate when a nigga sit back, admirin yours
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Young blood you better get that, we frying baccars
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Niggaz don't want to be confined to riding the iron horse
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And don't listen to the rappers, they dying to floss
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I used to be O.T., applyin the force
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Shoot up the whole block, then the iron I toss
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Come back with the click playing Diana Ross
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I'm the boss and this is how it's gonna be
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Burnt the turnpike, wild miles on the V
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I got mouths to feed till they put flowers on me
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And kiss my cold cheek, chicks crying like I was Cochise
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Tombstone read 'He Was Holdin No Leaks'
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Started from the crack game and then so sweet
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Freaked it to the rap game, Jigga the old-G
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On MTV, telling em how I sold D
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And used to back work up out of apartment 4-B
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Me and my homie, started out coldies
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Picked the mailbox lock cause I ain't have no key
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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
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Motherfuckers
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Jigga, uh-huh, yeah
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Roc-A-Fella y'all
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Uhh, feel this
Public Service Announcement (Interlude)
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