Murs

High Noon
I can't hear myself, Rue, oh I can't hear myself over all those waves on your head And then when you nod your head, it make it worse, nigga Oh shit, yo Two of the best emcees standing, cold branding These All-Star checks I'm spending, I'm Diddy dancing Without the shiny suits, though, your new favorite duo Had a Gucci on the floor, I left the Versace for Reuno And who knows the next time you'll see niggas connect rhymes? You'll have to birth the second coming like 9th on the bassline Turn to shoot, no seconds left, don't have to look, you know it's wet When I'm on my LA shit like Bronny beatin' on his chest Mamba shit, all kind of shit, my bars be like Obama lit I rhyme with no recognizance, the flow is stream of consciousness From continent to continent, combining vowels with consonants We crushing competition that be claiming they can conquer this Yeah, I'm doing more sets like Alanis did Mama said, "If you don't use nothin' else, use your common sense" It last longer if you talkin' on some honest shit (True) That's the kind of flow that's gon' make you more than iconic, bitch The sun shine and I'm getting to the paper I'm on the grind and I'm tryna get my cake up Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster Letras de cancionesI wake up and I gotta thank my maker I got a shot but I'd rather take the layup Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy Yeah, high noon on these niggas It's like I might as well be from the moon on these niggas It's in a whole different world like shrooms on these niggas No mask, but I'm gassin' like DOOM on these niggas, yeah Now all the white kids can sing along But don't forget the privilege and the baggage that you bring along, yeah It's one time for the culture I'm only tryna teach you, I'm not tryin' to insult you Poor righteous teacher, five percent of the masses I remember reading Doctor York books in them classes Somewhat smarter than the average black kid when I rap, kid Rhyming while applying friend science like I'm Astrid Yeah, from the curb but I'm still a nerd Without a master, still a master of the written word Don't get it twisted, I'm still getting to the money Young, black, and gangster, steady spittin' at you dummies The sun shine and I'm getting to the paper I'm on the grind and I'm tryna get my cake up Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster I wake up and I gotta thank my maker I got a shot but I'd rather take the layup Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy Yeah, I feel like Big Meech Birdman hands, look like big geese Put up the sneakers for some field cleats I been tryna run the game with sixteen No Bad Boy, but Diddy got a big team How many jeans? Five, but still ride the big wings Rap went commercial, while y'all livin' on commercial dreams Thirty seconds or less, while my life for the big screen Long format, Shaq on the back of a Yao Ming I'm like Larry Hoover maneuvering to some Al Green Gangster worldwide and underground, that's danger I'm tryna get the bag, lady, without havin' to sing it I ain't no Crip, no Blood, don't twist my fingers I rep two-five, I got two sides like pill If you talkin' 'bout us, just know you gon' meet Quill I can do it like the legends or do it like lil' Lils Middle child syndrome, I got into rap kill I could take a layup, but I'd rather shoot it like Pill Curry I call that gangster, nigga, been in no hurry Since I came in the game, last bar is a freestyle Motherfucker, you ain't know that rap been the golden child, hah The sun shine and I'm getting to the paper I'm on the grind and I'm tryna get my cake up Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster I wake up and I gotta thank my maker I got a shot but I'd rather take the layup Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster Ayy, all day I'm feelin' gangster Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy From Letras Mania