What More Can I Say Lyrics by Jay-Z

What More Can I Say Lyrics

    (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?)




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