| Left me standin here
|
| On this lonely street to cry
|
| This is a Living Legends, Justice League
|
| Definitive Jux presentation
|
| Brought to you by 9th Wonder aaand MURS
|
| What up though, still givin' a fuck so
|
| Open up your changer and get ready to dump those
|
| Disc of the dudes that be soundin' the same
|
| They get up on TV, steady clownin' for fame
|
| Disrespectin' ancestors that was bound in them chains
|
| But I’m around in the game
|
| So thangs is bound to change
|
| I’m tryin to walk that thin line
|
| Between intelligence and ignorance
|
| Have a little fun while makin' music of significance
|
| A nemesis to niggas just bumpin' they gums
|
| I give a fuck where you from
|
| It’s where your heart at bitch
|
| You gon' bite, little doggy, or just bark that shit?
|
| A slave to the rhythm, 9th spark that whip
|
| Cause my heart can’t quit, I got something to say
|
| Cause these niggas wanna act N.W.A.
|
| Niggas With Artillery and nothin' to spray
|
| Just some non-right assholes with nothin' to say
|
| That’s right motherfuckas
|
| Old salty ass, sideways ass motherfuckas
|
| Y’all fucked up now, huh? |
| MURS, get em
|
| I’m from where we leaving running and we hop outta cars
|
| Jump out and beat you down in some new All-stars
|
| No stars and stripes, just bars and pipes
|
| And niggas just start shootin', they too hard to fight
|
| I’m scarred for life, and charge this mic with bars of fright
|
| Dare any one of you frauds to bite
|
| I’m raw as life
|
| With loss of wife and cause of strife
|
| Spittin' sharp with like I floss with knives
|
| Not contrived or conceited, on your radio repeated
|
| I’m elitist and I leave this Red Hot like Kiedis
|
| I’m a Californicator and a street narrator
|
| Steady runnin' rappers down until they meet their maker
|
| Concrete caretaker to these weak imitators, they a
|
| Screech to my Slater, piece of beef to a gator or the
|
| Heat versus Lakers, I’m a speak to ya later
|
| And let 9th take me out
|
| With techniques and a fader
|
| What’s wrong with y’all man?
|
| The fuck is y’all thinkin' bout?
|
| Damn, them motherfuckas is lame man, get ya shit right man
|
| I’m from the home of Double K, nothin' but trouble gang
|
| KWS’s, LTS’s, OFA’s
|
| And every other crew that used to rack cans and spray
|
| And mob the RUD before the MTA
|
| So don’t hate what I say or talk down when I bust mine
|
| Tryin' to make some green like the Culver city bus line
|
| I’m unsigned and hyped, dump mines on sight
|
| This Living Legend gang, what you punks rhymin' like?
|
| I combine with 9th, sickest with these beats
|
| I mean so sick like he’s forgettin' to eat
|
| A hard man to take down like Michael Vick on his feet
|
| And anybody chose me they was thinkin' defeat
|
| I’m a spit with this heat until I get my credit
|
| I’m a verbal martial artist like I’m signed to Shady Records
|
| And you bitches best respect it or I will destroy you
|
| Have your whole crew screamin' out «You're My Boy Blue! |
| » |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 3:16, artist - Murs. Album song Murs 3:16: The 9th Edition, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп