Medley: Intro (Album Version|Explicit) - Jay-Z

Lyrics by：DJ Premier/JAY-Z

Composed by：DJ Premier/JAY-Z

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

Just so happens that I know how to rap

Okay I'm reloaded

Uh huh

A million

I did it again n***as

A million

F**ked up right ha a million I know

A million

I know what y'all n***as asking yourself

A million

Is he gon' ever fall off

A million

No a million

Lot of speculation

On the monies I've made honies 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 stayed in beef and slept with a TEC

What's the position you hold

Can you really match a triple

Platinum artist buck by buck

But only a single goin' gold

Roc-a fella should fold

And you're left out in the cold

Is it back to charging motherf**kers 11 for an O

For the millionth time

Asking me questions

Like Wendy Williams harassing 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 spinning on my sleeve

Ugh nice watch do you really have a spot

Like you said in friend or foe and if so what block

What you doin' in LA

With Filipinos and Eses

Latinos and Chevys

Down by Pico with Frederico

I'll answer all your questions but then y'all got to go

Now the question I ask you is

How bad you wanna know

Blaow

Blaow

Blaow

Blaow

A million

A million

Roc-a fella y'all uhh uh

Know my style

Motherf**kers 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***as still be dying for whores

But I hate when a n***a sit back admiring yours

Young blood you better get that we frying because

N***as don't want to be confined to riding the iron horse

And don't listen to the rappers yo they dying to floss

I used to be OT applyin' the force

Shoot up the whole block then the iron I toss

Come back with the clique playing Diana Ross

I'm the boss and this is how it's gon' be

Burnt the turnpike wild miles on the V

I got mouths to feed 'til 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 OG

On MTV telling 'em how I sold D

And used to bag work up out of apartment 4-B

Me and my homie started out co-d's

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**kers

Jigga Jigga uh huh uh huh yeah yeah

Roc-a fella y'all uuuh

Uhh uuh feel this feel this feel this