| What up though? |
| It’s MURS and, it seems like nobody’s trying man
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| There’s kids dying in Sudan and nobody cares man
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| At least I’m trying, man
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| Look, don’t ever let the fact that you can’t be perfect
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| Stop you from doing your best
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| MURS for President
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| Unless we try, the innocent will die
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| You can’t close your eyes, keep living in a lie
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| Look, we not helpless
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| We not hopeless
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| Said a prayer for the homie, locked up and wrote this
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| He got to get out and change his ways
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| While I’m looking for a way to explain these days
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| It’s trying times, I’m trying to rhyme
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| But so many fascinated with this life of crime, hah
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| Look, I’m dying to be different
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| Down to die to make a difference
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| Music for the movement with a message upliftin'
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| Went from set-trippin' to trips around the world
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| Opportunities are oysters, you might find a pearl
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| You can’t be scared to take that chance
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| Cause if you had to knock twice then you late for the dance
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| You gotta, move with urgency, assert with certainty
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| Ask me if I’m set to serve, I say, «Certainly»
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| Higher than the kite, I’m high off life
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| At the height of my career, a high priest on mics
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| I’m anti-thug and anti-drugs
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| Brought peace to the party and got anti-love
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| But haters so antiquated, I anticipated
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| Accepted it internally, had 9th interpolate it
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| He chopped it up and laid it in a session and he played it
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| I wrote, recorded to it, now look what we created
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| A hot mess, I’m hot off the press
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| You yesterday’s news, dude you just not fresh
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| You cold coffee, you wet cigarettes
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| I’m a shot of espresso and hot morning sex
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| Early to rise and the last to fall
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| The best thing for black youths since the basketball
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| Word to Kurtis Blow, you gotta know +The Breaks+
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| And if you don’t know your history, I know your fate
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| Uh, look
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| Been here a minute, be around a while longer
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| Every rhyme invented, my style got stronger
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| Grayskull Power when I spray soul showers
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| While you battle rap cats, just lay low cowards
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| Oh, you mad cause I’m stylin' on you
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| Love songs one minute, then I’m wildin' on you
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| That’s The Pain you gotta Love And Appreciate
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| I’m a Bad Man, you Silly Girls need to get it straight
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| Ha, small guys, denying this is my world
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| Your girlfriend call herself a dark-skinned white girl
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| Got a 9th beat
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| Man come on
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| He hear me in the sample before he even through the drum on
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| Run-on sentence
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| I’m the best, period
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| He pull the track out, I’ll black out I’m not hearing it
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| Nada, nothing, the negative zone
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| And if you can’t do better, you should let it alone, hah
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| I want it more than you
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| I want it, I want it right now
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| I’m wanted in forty-eight states for this style
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| It’s sicker than syringes, streamlined with strychnine
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| Vegan diet, healthy heart and soul with a sick mind
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| Inclined to flip split minds when I spit rhymes
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| So go ahead kick yours, hope I don’t kick mine
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| At 50-yard line against the wind through the uprights
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| While you just choke and can’t win cause you uptight
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| Ha! |
| He came to the game with two emcees
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| Back when people said you can’t make beats on PCs
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| Internet haters, major labels be damned
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| Soon produced the full-blown threat for the man
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| Now his phone blowin' up, he can’t hold it in his hand
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| A few months back them fools didn’t understand
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| Now it’s Mary J and Erykah, Jean Grey, etc
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| The name 9th Wonder and he crushin' all competitors
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| I cross-train, toss brain fuel on hot tracks
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| Burn in intelligent infernos, you got that?
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| I speak clear like the sample is in triplicates
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| Get every crooked cop in Los Angeles to handle this
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| Insane, inspired, insider street analyst
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| Questioning authority who don’t know what the answer is
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| The voice is proof the choice of the youth
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| Forensic evidence say the boy is the truth |