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!I did it again niggas
Fucked up, right? I know
I know what y'all niggas asking yourself
Is he gonna ever fall off?
NoA 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, 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
Uh, 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 ese's
Latinos and Cheve's, down by Pico with 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? blow!Roc-A-Fella y'all, uh
Know my style
Songwriters
SHAWN CARTER, SHAWN C CARTER, CHRISTOPHER E MARTINPublished by
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc. Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.