Official Music Video
Intro / A Million And One Questions / Rhyme No More by JAY-Z
Lyrics & Translation
English
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
OK, I'm reloaded!
A million
Uh-huh, I did it again niggas
Fucked up, right? Ha, I know
I know what y'all niggas asking yourself
Is he gon' ever fall off?
No
...A lot of speculation
On the monies I've made, honies 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 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?
If Roc-A-Fella should fold, and you're left out in the cold
Is it back to charging motherfuckers 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 doing in L.A., 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!
A million
Roc-A-Fella y'all, uh, 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, niggas still be dying for whores
But I hate when a nigga sit back, admiring yours
Young blood, you better get that, we frying because
Niggas don't want to be confined to riding the iron horse
And don't listen to the rappers yo, they're 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 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 O.G
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-ds
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, uh
Uh, feel this
Spanish translations are provided by the LyricVerse team.
Spanish translation of Intro / A Million And One Questions / Rhyme No More by JAY-Z
Intro / A Million And One Questions / Rhyme No More* (original 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
It just so happens that I know how to rap
OK, I'm reloaded!
A million
Uh-huh, I did it again niggas
Fucked up, right? Ha, I know
I know what y'all niggas asking yourself
Is he gon' ever fall off?
No
...A lot of speculation
On the monies I've made, honies 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 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?
If Roc-A-Fella should fold, and you're left out in the cold
Is it back to charging motherfuckers 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 doing in L.A., 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!
A million
Roc-A-Fella y'all, uh, 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, niggas still be dying for whores
But I hate when a nigga sit back, admiring yours
Young blood, you better get that, we frying because
Niggas don't want to be confined to riding the iron horse
And don't listen to the rappers yo, they're 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 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 O.G
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-ds
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, uh
Uh, feel this
Intro / A Million And One Questions / Rhyme No More (traducción LyricVerse Team)
Alguien me está arrastrando más cerca del suelo
No he entrado en pánico, ya he estado aquí antes
Parece que fue ayer cuando subí a ese escenario
Delante de esa multitud
Y les mostré quién era quién, y qué era qué
Hombre, miren a estos tontos
No soy un rapero, soy un hustler
Simplemente resulta que sé rapear
¡OK, estoy recargado!
Un millón
Ajá, lo hice de nuevo, niggas
La cagué, ¿verdad? Ja, lo sé
Sé lo que ustedes, niggas, se están preguntando
¿Alguna vez va a caer?
No
...Mucha especulación
Sobre el dinero que he hecho, las chicas que he conquistado
¿Cómo es que es de verdad? ¿Ese nigga realmente está pagado?
Hustlers que he conocido o con los que he tratado directamente
¿Es cierto que se metió en problemas y durmió con una TEC?
¿Qué posición tienes?
¿Puedes realmente igualar a un artista triple platino dólar por dólar
Pero solo un sencillo va a ser oro?
Si Roc-A-Fella se disolviera, y te quedaras en la calle
¿Volverías a cobrar a los cabrones 11 por una onza?
Por millonésima vez, haciéndome preguntas
Como Wendy Williams, acosándome
Luego se molestan cuando me ofendo
¿Puedo tener un minuto para respirar? Y en ese minuto te vas
Mientras miro mi Rolex girando en mi manga
Ugh, bonito reloj, ¿realmente tienes un lugar?
Como dijiste en Friend or Foe y si es así, ¿qué bloque?
¿Qué haces en L.A., con filipinos y Eses?
Latinos y Chevys, por Pico con Frederico
Responderé todas sus preguntas pero luego ustedes tienen que irse
Ahora la pregunta que les hago es: "¿Qué tan mal quieren saberlo?"
¡Blaow!
Un millón
Roc-A-Fella, ustedes, uh, uh
Conozcan mi estilo
Los cabrones ya no pueden rimar, ya no sobre el crimen
Hasta que yo no esté, porque soy tan crudo
Mi flow expone agujeros que encuentran en el tuyo
Si no fuera por mí, los niggas seguirían muriendo por putas
Pero odio cuando un nigga se sienta, admirando el tuyo
Sangre joven, mejor entiéndelo, estamos friendo porque
Los niggas no quieren estar confinados a montar el caballo de hierro
Y no escuchen a los raperos, yo, se mueren por presumir
Yo solía ser O.T., aplicando la fuerza
Disparar a toda la cuadra, luego el hierro lo tiro
Volver con la pandilla escuchando a Diana Ross
Soy el jefe y así va a ser
Quemé la autopista, millas salvajes en el V
Tengo bocas que alimentar hasta que me pongan flores
Y besen mi mejilla fría, chicas llorando como si fuera Cochise
La lápida decía: "No tenía fugas"
Empezó en el juego del crack y luego tan dulce
Lo llevó al juego del rap, Jigga el O.G.
En MTV, diciéndoles cómo vendía D
Y solía empaquetar la mercancía desde el apartamento 4-B
Mi amigo y yo, empezamos como co-ds
Forcé la cerradura del buzón porque no tenía llave
Tenía el cable con el ancla cuando Jaz hizo 'Sophie'
Luego me mantuve discreto, pero ahora he vuelto, está en marcha
¡Cabrones!
Jigga, ajá, sí
Roc-A-Fella, ustedes, uh
Uh, sientan esto
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