Intro-a Million And One Questions-rhyme No More Lyrics - Vol. 1: In My Lifetime - Jay-z

[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... 

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...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! 

Photos 

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