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[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 niggaz Fucked up, right? I know I know what y´all niggaz 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 nigga 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 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 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 Motherfuckers 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, 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 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 Motherfuckers Jigga, uh-huh, yeah Roc-A-Fella y´all Uhh, feel this

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