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Les paroles des chansons ne sont plus diffusées, suite à de nombreuses demandes des maisons d'édition.
 
What More Can I Say? (Qu'est-ce Que Je Peux Dire De Plus?)
 
(Are you not entertained ? )    La traduction quand les problemes seront terminés... ... .
(Are. . you. . not. . entertained ? )
 
(Is this not why you're here ? )
 
Uh, Uh, Huh
 
Turn the music up
 
Turn me down
 
Guru... Lets go get 'em again
 
This time it's for the money my nigga
 
Brooklyn stand up
 
[Verse One]
 
There's never been a nigga this good 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 fucks
 
To lazy to make up shit
 
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... CLUCK
 
I'm not a biter
 
I'm a writter
 
For myself and others
 
I say a B. I. G. verse i'm only biggin up my brother
 
Biggin up my borough
 
I'm big enough to do it
 
I'm that therough
 
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 bar-rel's in your mouth
 
I'm in... New sneakers
 
Deuce seaters
 
A few Diva's
 
What more can I tell you
 
Let me spell it for you
 
W-I-Double L-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 all to you
 
I know this much is true
 
My Life
 
(Look at my life)
 
(See what I see)
 
[Verse Two]
 
You already know what i'm about
 
Flyin birds down south
 
Movin wet off the step
 
Purple Rain in the drought
 
Stuntin on hoes
 
Brushin off my shirt
 
But ain't nothin on my clothes
 
'Cept my chain
 
My name
 
Young H-O
 
Pitch the yea faithful
 
Even if they patrol I make payroll
 
Benz paid for
 
Friends they roll
 
Private jets down to Turks and Kayko's
 
Chrys case loads
 
I don't give a shit
 
Nigga one life to live I can't let a day go
 
Bye
 
Without me being fly
 
Fresh to death
 
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 nigga button ups
 
S dots on my feet
 
Make a cypher comeplete
 
What more can I say Guru play the beat
 
We gonna let 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
 
LET'S GO
 
(What more can I say ? )
 
[Verse Three]
 
Now you know ass is willie
 
When they got you in a mag
 
For like half a billi
 
And your ass ain't Lilly
 
White
 
That mean that shit 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 previewin it
 
This ain't the show i'm just EQ'in it
 
One, Two and I won't stop abusin it
 
To gropie girls stop false accusin it
 
Back to the music
 
The mayback roof is translucent
 
Niggas got a problem 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 vivily
 
What these streets did to me
 
So picture me
 
Lettin these clowns nit pick at me
 
Paint me like a pickiny
 
I will literally
 
Kiss Tee-Tee in the forhead
 
Tell her please forgive me
 
Then squeeze until 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 blast for me
 
I'm at the Trump International
 
Ask for me
 
I ain't never scared
 
I'm everywhere
 
You ain't never there
 
Nigga 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
 
I CEO's mine
 
That marketing plan was me
 
And no I ain't get shot up a whole bunch of times
 
Or make up shit in a whole bunch of lines
 
And I ain't animated, like say a, Busta Rhymes
 
But the real shit you get when you bust down my lines
 
Add that to the fact I went plat a bunch of times
 
Times that by my influence
 
On pop culutre
 
I supposed to be number one on everybodys list
 
We'll see what happens when I no longer exist
 
Fuck this
 
(What more can I say ? )

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