Entertainment Music

Jay-Z – Encore Lyrics

Jay-Z – Encore Lyrics

Thank you, thank you, thank you, you’re far too kind

 

Now can I get an encore, do you want more

Cooking raw with the Brooklyn boy

So for one last time I need y’all to roar

 

Now what the hell are you waiting for

After me, there shall be no more

So for one last time, nigga make some noise

 

Who you know fresher than Hov’? Riddle me that

The rest of y’all know where I’m lyrically at

Can’t none of y’all mirror me back

Yeah hearing me rap is like hearing G. Rap in his prime

I’m, young H.O., rap’s Grateful Dead

Back to take over the globe, now break bread

I’m in, Boeing jets, Global Express

Out the country but the blueberry still connect

On the low but the yacht got a triple deck

But when you young, what the fuck you expect? Yep, yep

Grand opening, grand closing

God your man Hov’ cracked the can open again

Who you goin’ find doper than him with no pen

Just draw off inspiration

Soon you goin’ see you can’t replace him

With cheap imitations for these generations

 

Now can I get an encore, do you want more

Cooking raw with the Brooklyn boy

So for one last time I need y’all to roar

 

Look what you made me do, look what I made for you

Knew if I paid my dues, how will they pay you

When you first come in the game, they try to play you

Then you drop a couple of hits, look how they wave to you

From Marcy to Madison Square

To the only thing that matters in just a matter of years (yea)

As fate would have it, Jay’s status appears

To be at an all-time high, perfect time to say goodbye

When I come back like Jordan, wearing the 4-5

It ain’t to play games with you

It’s to aim at you, probably maim you

If I owe you I’m blowing you to smithereens

Cocksucker take one for your team

And I need you to remember one thing (one thing)

I came, I saw, I conquered

From record sales, to sold out concerts

So motherfucker if you want this encore

I need you to scream, ’til your lungs get sore

 

It’s star time

This man is made! He’s killing all y’all jive turkeys

Do y’all want more of the Jigga man?

Well if y’all want more of the Jigga man

Then I need y’all to help me, bring him back to stage

Say Hova, c’mon say it!

HO-VA! HO-VA! Are y’all out there? (HO-VA! HO-VA!)

Are y’all out there? C’mon, louder!

Yeah, now see that’s what I’m talking bout

They love you Jigga, they love you Jigga!

 

I like the way this one feel

It’s so motherfucking soulful man!

Yeah okay

 

So this here is the victory lap

Then I’m leaving, that’s how you get me back

After a year of them sixteen’s, it’s one point two

And that’s two point four, and I’m only doing two

You wanted to gain attention new dudes

I can get you BET and TRL too

You wanna be in the public, send your budget

Well fuck it, I ain’t budging!

Young did it to death, you gotta love it

Record companies told me I couldn’t cut it

Now look at me, all star-studded

Golfer above par like I putted

All cause the shit I uttered, was utterly ridiculous

How sick is this?

You want to bang, send Kanye change, send Just some dust

Send Hip a grip, then you got’ spit

A little something like this

Written by Shawn Carter, Kanye West

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