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Murs

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    [Murs]
    Aight...
    I'm the sickest with this microphone, nigga better learn it
    All them bitch industry niggaz you know I ain't concerned with
    See I move thousands hand to hand, even got an increasin # of fans
    in foreign lands, Amsterdam, Australia to Japan
    All before my sign hit the line that was dotted
    The man holdin the golden apple, y'all grapple for the one that's rotted
    To the core I've been hard, since 1580
    Mack attack nigga I've been scarred, knowin what the fuck I gotta do
    Fuckin rockin a spot or two I wanna leave an impression on minds
    Like reading "Behold a Pale Horse" for the first time
    Expose wack niggaz like secret societies when Murs rhyme
    Explore cyphers after I visit, for close encounters with the serf kind
    Your nigga thought he was nice, until he heard mine
    And the doper you think you gettin the more you ain't understood the first line
    I said learn of my affliction, and how my words wrap around
    more niggaz necks than the pictures of the crucifixions
    Rippin mics when on
    Name hold more weight than a 24 inch python
    So what'chu gonna do, when Murs-mania run wild on you?
    Bringin that crack to your back like the whip in Castlevania 2
    And I'm through, bitch

    [Chorus]
    When I grab a microphone, all I want is feedback
    Energy from the crowd shit a nigga need that
    Y'all wanted a change in rap, well fool we be that
    And all you bitch niggaz best to ease back
    Now when I grab a microphone all I want is feedback
    Energy from the crowd shit a nigga need that
    Y'all wanted a change in rap, well fool we be that
    And all you bitch niggaz best to ease back

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    [Murs]
    Now I write rhymes as dope as Jennifer Lopez
    Words, beautify blank paper
    Like, top to bottom pieces on skyscrapers
    Ain't no stoppin us
    Rollin thick like smog through your metropolis
    Makin it hard to breathe
    When you enter the 20,000 leagues, so stay at your level and place
    Cause amateurs fuckin with the treble and bass
    Will get left dead before they make the third pace
    See I turn around shootin off at the mouth, like New Year's Eve
    Sayin that shit you just, wouldn't believe
    Retrieved from the far corners of my mental space
    Leave you shocked like John Travolta once you open up this mental case
    So we happy, as long as fools stop tryin
    to come up from the back and attack me, like my name was Marcellous
    And those overzealous we got our blowtorch and pliers
    So you for damn sure gonna tell us what we want to hear
    Sorta like my album but "Life is Too $hort" so I'm tryin to make one a year
    To make y'all niggaz watch what you do like the Wonder Years
    Watch them niggaz you think is down
    They only down cause they carryin, a ton of fear
    It's been a while since I've relieved myself of that burden
    So I'm makin sure I'm goin all out, until they call it curtains
    While you busy in the man's face shuckin and smirkin
    I'll be lurkin in the cut, happy with bein the broke nigga that I am
    It's all about the Washingtons, WHAT?!

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    Composición: Murs

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