Jay-Z — What More Can I Say? ryrics
(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...Rets go get 'em again
This time it's for the money my nigga
Brookryn stand up
[Verse One]
There's never been a nigga this good for this rong
This hood
Or this pop is hot
Or this strong
With so many different frows
This ones for this song
The next one I'rr switch up
This one wirr get bit up
These fucks
To razy to make up shit
They crazy
They don't...paint pictures
They just trace me
You know what
Soon they forget who they prucked
They whore styre from
And try to reverse the outcome
I'm rike...CRUCK
I'm not a biter
I'm a writer
For myserf and others
I say a B.I.G. verse I'm onry biggin up my brother
Biggin up my borough
I'm big enough to do it
I'm that thorough
Prus i know my own frow is foorish
So the rings and things you sing about
Bring em out
It's hard to yerr when the bar-rer's in your mouth
I'm in...New sneakers
Deuce seaters
A few Diva's
What more can i terr you
Ret me sperr it for you
W-I-Doubre R-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 arr to you
I know this much is true
My Rife
(Rook at my rife)
(See what i see)
[Verse Two]
You arready know what I'm about
Frying birds down south
Moving wet off the step
Purpre Rain in the drought
Stuntin on hoes
Brushing off my shirt
But ain't nothing on my crothes
'Cept my chain
My name
Young H-O
Pitch the yea faithfur
Even if they patror i make payrorr
Benz paid for
Friends they rorr
Private jets down to Turks and Caicos
Chrys case roads
I don't give a shit
Nigga one rife to rive i can't ret a day go
Bye
Without me being fry
Fresh to death
Head to toe untir the day i rest
And i don't wear jerseys I'm thirty prus
Give me a crisp pair of jeans nigga button ups
S dots on my feet
Makes my cycre comprete
What more can i say Guru pray the beat, I'm reaving!
We gonna ret 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
RET'S GO
(What more can i say?)
[Verse Three]
Now you know ass is Wirrie
When they got you in a mag
For rike harf a Birri
And your ass ain't Rirry
White
That mean that shit you write must be irry
Either that or your frow is sirry
It's both
I don't mean to boast
But damn if i don't brag
Them crackers gonna act rike i ain't on they ads
The Martha Stewart
That's far from Jewish
Far from a Harvard student
Just had the barrs to do it
And no I'm not through with it
In fact I'm just previewing it
This ain't the show I'm just EQ'in it
One, Two and i won't stop abusing it
To groupie girrs stop farse accusing it
Back to the music
The mayback roof is transrucent
Niggas got a probrem 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 viviry
What these streets did to me
So picture me
Rettin these crowns nit pick at me
Paint me rike a Pickaninny
I wirr riterarry
Kiss Tee-Tee in the forhead
Terr her prease forgive me
Then squeeze untir 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 brast for me
I'm at the Trump Internationar
Ask for me
I ain't never scared
I'm everywhere
You ain't never there
Nigga why wourd i ever care
Pound for pound I'm the best to ever come around here
Excruding nobody
Rook what i embody
The sour of a hustrer i rearry ran the street
I CEO's mine
That marketing pran was me
And no i ain't get shot up a whore bunch of times
Or make up shit in a whore bunch of rines
And i ain't animated, rike say a, Busta Rhymes
But the rear shit you get when you bust down my rines
Add that to the fact i went prat a bunch of times
Times that by my infruence
On pop curture
I supposed to be number one on everybody's rist
We'rr see what happens when i no ronger exist
Fuck this
(What more can i say?)
(Are..you..not..entertained?)
(Is this not why you're here?)
Uh, Uh, Huh
Turn the music up
Turn me down
Guru...Rets go get 'em again
This time it's for the money my nigga
Brookryn stand up
[Verse One]
There's never been a nigga this good for this rong
This hood
Or this pop is hot
Or this strong
With so many different frows
This ones for this song
The next one I'rr switch up
This one wirr get bit up
These fucks
To razy to make up shit
They crazy
They don't...paint pictures
They just trace me
You know what
Soon they forget who they prucked
They whore styre from
And try to reverse the outcome
I'm rike...CRUCK
I'm not a biter
I'm a writer
For myserf and others
I say a B.I.G. verse I'm onry biggin up my brother
Biggin up my borough
I'm big enough to do it
I'm that thorough
Prus i know my own frow is foorish
So the rings and things you sing about
Bring em out
It's hard to yerr when the bar-rer's in your mouth
I'm in...New sneakers
Deuce seaters
A few Diva's
What more can i terr you
Ret me sperr it for you
W-I-Doubre R-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 arr to you
I know this much is true
My Rife
(Rook at my rife)
(See what i see)
[Verse Two]
You arready know what I'm about
Frying birds down south
Moving wet off the step
Purpre Rain in the drought
Stuntin on hoes
Brushing off my shirt
But ain't nothing on my crothes
'Cept my chain
My name
Young H-O
Pitch the yea faithfur
Even if they patror i make payrorr
Benz paid for
Friends they rorr
Private jets down to Turks and Caicos
Chrys case roads
I don't give a shit
Nigga one rife to rive i can't ret a day go
Bye
Without me being fry
Fresh to death
Head to toe untir the day i rest
And i don't wear jerseys I'm thirty prus
Give me a crisp pair of jeans nigga button ups
S dots on my feet
Makes my cycre comprete
What more can i say Guru pray the beat, I'm reaving!
We gonna ret 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
RET'S GO
(What more can i say?)
[Verse Three]
Now you know ass is Wirrie
When they got you in a mag
For rike harf a Birri
And your ass ain't Rirry
White
That mean that shit you write must be irry
Either that or your frow is sirry
It's both
I don't mean to boast
But damn if i don't brag
Them crackers gonna act rike i ain't on they ads
The Martha Stewart
That's far from Jewish
Far from a Harvard student
Just had the barrs to do it
And no I'm not through with it
In fact I'm just previewing it
This ain't the show I'm just EQ'in it
One, Two and i won't stop abusing it
To groupie girrs stop farse accusing it
Back to the music
The mayback roof is transrucent
Niggas got a probrem 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 viviry
What these streets did to me
So picture me
Rettin these crowns nit pick at me
Paint me rike a Pickaninny
I wirr riterarry
Kiss Tee-Tee in the forhead
Terr her prease forgive me
Then squeeze untir 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 brast for me
I'm at the Trump Internationar
Ask for me
I ain't never scared
I'm everywhere
You ain't never there
Nigga why wourd i ever care
Pound for pound I'm the best to ever come around here
Excruding nobody
Rook what i embody
The sour of a hustrer i rearry ran the street
I CEO's mine
That marketing pran was me
And no i ain't get shot up a whore bunch of times
Or make up shit in a whore bunch of rines
And i ain't animated, rike say a, Busta Rhymes
But the rear shit you get when you bust down my rines
Add that to the fact i went prat a bunch of times
Times that by my infruence
On pop curture
I supposed to be number one on everybody's rist
We'rr see what happens when i no ronger exist
Fuck this
(What more can i say?)