What More Can I Say

What More Can I Say




(Are you not entertained?) ( (Is this not why you're here?) Uh, Uh, Huh Turn the music up Turn me down Guru...Lets go get 'em again This time it's for the money my nigga Brooklyn stand up There's never been a nigga this good for this long This hood Or this pop, this hot Or this strong With so many different flows This ones for this song The next one I'll switch up This one will get bit up These F**ks To lazy to make up shit They crazy They don't...paint pictures They just trace me You know what Soon they forget where they plucked They whole style from And try to reverse the outcome I'm like...tough I'm not a biter I'm a writer For myself and others I say a B.I.G. verse I'm only biggin up my brother Biggin up my borough I'm big enough to do it I'm that thorough Plus I know my own flow is foolish So them rings and things you sing about Bring em out It's hard to yell when the bar-rel's in your mouth I'm in...New sneakers Deuce seaters Few Diva's What more can I tell you Let me spell it for you W-I-Double L-I-E Nobody truer than H-O-V And I'm back for more New Yorks ambassador Prime Minister back to finish my business up What more can I say? What more can I do? I give this all to you I know this much is true My Life (Look at my life) (See what I see) You already know what I'm about Flyin birds down south Movin wet off the step Purple Rain in the drought Stuntin on hoes Brushin off my shirt But ain't nothin on my clothes 'Cept my chain My name Young H-O Pitch the yay faithful Even if they patrol I make payroll Benz paid for Friends they roll Private jets to the Turks and Caicos Cris' case loads I don't give a shit Nigga one life to live I can't let a day go Bye Without me being fly Fresh to death Head to toe until the day I rest And i don't wear jerseys I'm thirty plus Give me a crisp pair of jeans nigga button ups S dots on my feet Make a cypher comeplete What more can I say Guru play the beat, I'm livin' We gonna let this ride into the hook I'mma snap my fingers on this one What more can I say to you? Get my grown man on LET'S GO (What more can I say?) Now you know ass is willie When they got you in a mag For like half a billi And your ass ain't Lilly White That mean that shit you write must be illy Either that or your flow is silly It's both I don't mean to boast But damn if I don't brag Them crackers gonna act like I ain't on they ass The Martha Stewart That's far from Jewish Far from a Harvard student Just had the balls to do it And no I'm not through with it In fact I'm just previewin it This ain't the show I'm just EQ'in it One, Two and I won't stop abusin it To gropie girls stop false accusin it Back to the music The mayback roof is translucent Niggas got a problem Houston What up B They can't shut up me Shut down I Not even P.E. I'mma ride God forgive me for my brash delivery But I remember vividly What these streets did to me So picture me Lettin these clowns nit pick at me and Paint me like a pickiny I will literally Kiss Tee-Tee in the forhead Tell her please forgive me Then squeeze into your forhead I'm not the one to score points off In fact I got a joint to knock your points off Young Hova the God nigga blasphamy I'm at the Trump International Ask for me I ain't never scared I'm everywhere You ain't never there Nigga why would I ever care Pound for pound I'm the best to ever come around here Excluding nobody Look what I embody The soul of a hustler I really ran the street A CEO's mind That marketing plan was me And no I ain't get shot up a whole bunch of times Or make up shit in a whole bunch of lines And I ain't animated, like say a, Busta Rhymes But the real shit you get when you bust down my lines Add that to the fact I went plat a bunch of times Times that by my influence on pop culutre I supposed to be number one on everybodys list We'll see what happens when I no longer exist F**k this (What more can I say?)


The Black Album (Explicit)
The Black Album (Explicit)JAY-Z
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