jay z - intro a million and one questions rhyme no more lyrics
[somebody whispering]
somebody’s pulling me closer to the ground
i ain’t panicked, i been here before
seems like only yesterday when i got up on that stage
in front of that crowd
and showed them who was who, and what was what
man look at these suckers
i ain’t no rapper, i’m a hustler
it just so happens that i know how to rap
okay, i’m reloaded!
(music drops in)
[jay-z]
i did it again n-gg-z
f-cked up, right? i know
i know what y’all n-gg-z asking yourself
is he gonna ever fall off?
no…
…a lot of speculation
on the monies i’ve made, honeys i’ve slayed
how is he for real? is that n-gg- really paid?
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 motherf-ckers 11 for an o
for the millionth time askin me
questions like wendy williams, harr-ssin 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
motherf-ckers 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, n-gg-z still be dying for wh-r-s
but i hate when a n-gg- sit back, admirin yours
young blood you better get that, we frying baccars
n-gg-z 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’
then i went low key, but now i’m back it’s on
motherf-ckers
jigga, uh-huh, yeah
roc-a-fella y’all
uhh, feel this
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