Текст песни Jay-Z — Intro A Million And One Questions Rhyme No More
[somebody whispering]
Somebodys pulling me closer to the ground
I aint 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 aint no rapper, Im a hustler
It just so happens that I know how to rap
Okay, Im reloaded!
(music drops in)
[Jay-Z]
I did it again niggaz
Fucked up, right? I know
I know what yall niggaz asking yourself
Is he gonna ever fall off?
No…
…a lot of speculation
on the monies Ive made, honeys Ive slayed
How is he for real? Is that nigga really paid?
Hustlers Ive met or, dealt with direct
Is it true he slay the beef and slept with a tech?
Whats 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 youre left out in the cold
Is it back to charging motherfuckers 11 for an O
For the millionth time askin me
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 Im 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 eses
Latinos and Cheves, down by Pico withh Frederico
I answer all your questions but then yall got to go
Now the question I ask you is how bad you want to know? BLAOW!
Roc-A-Fella yall, uhh, uh
Know my style
Motherfuckers cant rhyme no more, bout crime no more
Til Im no more, cause Im so raw
My flow expose holes that they find in yours
Wasnt 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 dont want to be confined to riding the iron horse
And dont 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
Im the boss and this is how its 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 aint have no key
Had the cable with the anchor when Jaz made Sophie
Then I went low key, but now Im back its on
Motherfuckers
Jigga, uh-huh, yeah
Roc-A-Fella yall
Uhh, feel this