(What more can I say?)
Now you know a** is Willie
When they got you in a mag
For like half a billi'
And your a** ain't Lilly
White
That mean that sh** 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 ads
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 previewing it
This ain't the show I'm just EQ'n it
One-two and I won't stop abusing it
To groupie girls stop false accusing it
Back to the music
The mayback roof is translucent
Ta, n***as got a problem Houston
Ta ta
Ta, n***as got a problem Houston
For this long, this hood
Or this pop is 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 f**s
To lazy to make up sh**
They crazy
They don't...paint pictures
They just trace me
You know what
Soon they forget who they plucked
They whole style from
And try to reverse the outcome
I'm like...Ta
I'm not a biter
I'm a writer
For myself and others
I say a big verse I'm only biggin' up my brother
Biggin' up my Beryl
I'm big enough to do it
I'm that thorough
Plus I know my own flow is foolish
So the rings and things you sing about
Bring em out
It's hard to yell when the barrel's in your mouth
I'm in...new sneakers, deuce seaters
A few divas
What more can I say?
What more can I do?
I give this up to you
I know this much is true
Moving wet off the step
Purple Rain in the drought
Stuntin' on hoes
Brushing off my shirt
But ain't nothing on my clothes
'Cept my chain
My name
Young H-O
Pitch the yeah faithful
Even if they patrol I make payroll
Benz paid for
Friends they roll
Private jets down to Turks and Caicos
Chrys' case loads
I don't give a sh**
n***a one life to live I can't let a day go by
Without me being fly
Fresh to d**h
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 n***a bu*ton ups
S dots on my feet
Makes my cycle complete
What more can I say Pickaninny
I will literally
Kiss Tee-Tee in the forehead
Tell her please forgive me
Then squeeze until your forehead
I'm not the one to score points off
In fact
I got a joint to knock your points off
What more can I say?
Do? Do?
I know this much is true
True, true, true, true
True, true, true, true
I'm not the one to score points off
In fact
I got a joint to knock your points off
Young
Hoover the God n***a blast for me
I'm at the "Chump International"
Ask for me
I ain't never scared
I'm everywhere
You ain't never there
n***a 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 sh** in a whole bunch of lines
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 previewing it
This ain't the show I'm just EQ'n it
One-two and I won't stop abusing it
To groupie girls stop false accusing it
Back to the music
The mayback roof is translucent
n***as got a problem Houston, ta-ta
n***as got a problem Houston, ta-ta-ta
n***as got a problem Houston, ta-ta ta-ta
n***as got a problem Houston, ta-ta-ta
What more can I say?
What more can I do?
I give this up to you
You-you-you (ta-ta-ta)
True!
Times that by my influence
On pop culture
I supposed to be number one on everybody's list
We'll see what happens when I no longer exist
f** this
What more can I say? (f** this)
What more can I say? (f**-f**-f** this)