A Million And One Questions Rhyme No More (Intro) - 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... 

...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! 

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