Preview
(Are you not entertained?)
(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
[Verse One]
There´s never been a nigga this good for this long
This hood
Or this pop is 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 fucks
To lazy to make up shit
They crazy
They don´t...paint pictures
They just trace me
You know what
Soon they forget who they plucked
They whole style from
And try to reverse the outcome
I´m like...CLUCK
I´m not a biter
I´m a writter
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 therough
Plus I know my own flow is foolish
So the 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
A 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
[Chorus: Singing]
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)
[Verse Two]
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 yea faithful
Even if they patrol I make payroll
Benz paid for
Friends they roll
Private jets down to Turks and Kayko´s
Chrys 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
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?)
[Verse Three]
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 ads
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 deivery
But I remember vivily
What these streets did to me
So picture me
Lettin these clowns nit pick at me
Paint me like a pickiny
I will literally
Kiss Tee-Tee in the forhead
Tell her please forgive me
Then squeeze until 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 blasphemy
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
I CEO´s mine
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
Fuck this
(What more can I say?)