(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, this 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 where they plucked

They whole style from

And try to reverse the outcome

I'm like...tough

I'm not a biter

I'm a writer

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 thorough

Plus I know my own flow is foolish

So them 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

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 yay faithful

Even if they patrol I make payroll

Benz paid for

Friends they roll

Private jets to the Turks and Caicos

Cris' 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, I'm livin'



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 ass

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 delivery

But I remember vividly

What these streets did to me

So picture me

Lettin these clowns nit pick at me

and Paint me like a pickiny

I will literally

Kiss Tee-Tee in the forhead

Tell her please forgive me

Then squeeze into 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 blasphamy

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

A CEO's mind

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 man



(What more can I say?)