[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 s**ers
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***az
f**ed up, right? i know
I know what y'all n***az 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***a 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**ers 11 for an o
For the millionth time askin me
Questions like wendy williams, harra**in 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**ers 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***az still be dying for who*es
But i hate when a n***a sit back, admirin yours
Young blood you better get that, we frying baccars
n***az 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**ers
Jigga, uh-huh, yeah
Roc-a-fella y'all
Uhh, feel this