Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Dance, artist - Murs. Album song The End Of The Beginning, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 24.02.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Murs 316
Song language: English
The Dance |
You didn’t think me and El was comin like this |
Def Jux Motherfucker and we run this shit |
Got you all up on your keyboard stunnin and shit |
Oh you got a couple jokes now you funny bitch (HA HA) |
Have you laughin all the way to the bank |
On point make a cut like we holdin a shank |
Got it all up on ya back like you walkin a plank |
Try to do it like this bitch you know how to blame |
Do it double time all up in yo face |
Like piranhas when you drop fresh meat in the tank |
Fell off of the game can’t keep ya rank |
Mad cause you try to rob shit but you ain’t |
Been around no bullshit where crews peel clips |
Niggas that kill for fun |
Wanna talk that ill shit sayin how you kill shit |
Bullets still in ya gun |
Koolaid in ya veins so now you gotta change clothes |
Cuz you pissed ya pants |
Saw me durango said you wanna tango |
Now this is the dance |
Where ya shoes at where ya crew at |
Claim you do gats but you do rap |
What you gonna bust a verse right before the guns burst |
Push ya girl on the ground so that you can run first |
Now you about to get rolled up hold up wait |
Just an emcee that was tryin to make cake |
Now you gotta gun all up in ya face |
All of a sudden found god like runnin mase |
Thought it be fun to spun on tape |
Now you wish you would have stuck to drum n' bass |
But you had to be hard on the blue ball |
When you never gang banged a day in ya town |
Try to be a man and run the streets and the jungle gym nigga stop playin |
Around |
Lay it down |
(Chorus: repeat 3X) |
This is the Dance! |
You don’t wanna be late cuz I’m over on weight betta get ya shit straight |
This is ya Chance! |
You don’t have to be fake with a heart full of hate just try to say thanks |
Murs fall up on the spot like what up bitch |
Approached by this girl like shutup bitch |
Than I grab the microphone and I cut up kids |
Like a hot knife straight through a butter stick |
Now I’m in the spotlight about to rock all night |
Shot of tequila than a hot mamacita |
We sex than we swallow what? |
nine margaritas |
Body on point so I follow the leader |
Need more tequila so I swallow the liter |
How can life feel sweeter (can't) |
So I passed out rolled up do it again |
Won’t neva roll up ya crew in the wind |
High velocity high viscocity slippin right pass your animosity |
Fans are constantly, askin me |
Who said what and who has beef |
My crew got stuck in we to musty |
So try to weigh it out with the fruit laid out (stomp the bastard) |
Thats just played out theres more to ya life than underground rap |
What you waste all ya time and you wanna run it back |
All on the message board runnin ya yap |
At the end of the night only wanted to chat |
Now you know that you got issues |
That early in the morn you should look at some porn |
And jack off right in the tissue |
Than call it a night thats probley the life |
Go to sleep with the girl that you callin ya wife |
Wake up to the same shit different day |
Everybody onto work and they on the way |
Cause we all got bills and rent to pay |
Lend to the earth wasn’t meant to stay |
So before I’m gone I wanna make a hit song that’ll always get some play |
Got the homey el producto workin in the cut so what you got to say |
(El-P) |
You wanna trace along the pattern of fair please rap |
I wanna pattern how the drunk end mechanism I.D. |
jury breath commence fresh |
Test the match, metal on the chestplate tech |
Better win a smile right, wanna frown like god right |
With a highlight primal fright in a primal life of a double ox razor blade fade |
like 88' |
We hit advance from the whips and lazer face oh break two three |
God to analog monkey not me rock hard and shit |
The radio flyer kit, flyin with a boombox pack wit' clips |
Faggots wanna ratta tat tatter this |
And a PT cruiser he creed lucifer |
Here comes the booster bruiser, betta get used to losin movement |
They couldn’t move like el, ox, murs, lif the bazooka trooped in so useless |
So useless tip that’ll have a little truth in it like (poof) |
Deep space nine milli mechanism fist raise the roof again |
Who stays on a move that says |
Chick wanna shake ring hetero crawl thru the trenches |
Revelation manifacture eat senses or the city |
Or compositive battle turn logic pretty |
All the hard edge tomorrow brings heads or home up in me come get me |
I’m for this shitty dizzy spinning all this cuff and progress whose with me |
Fabolous thunder bird word nerd unda that tom pill shit |
Who heard kill quick |
They been together since 96' they still ride ya dick |
I refined ya style while wild ways from an error with an automan mix |
Community watch groups and lace young kids |
Niggas don’t skip me |
I don’t answer to you george bush or the war time commitee |
Dumber than a mongulary race movin shit |
With a heart of hell scribblin bruisin shit |
Every time you make a move in the industry start the new movement kid |
I’m like lose it bitch |
Check the steam on the E with an edge of a generation new ruthlesness |
Who’s in charge, check into ya leader man stop the foolishness |
Cop the new shit bitch |