Search results for 'underground by murs' Page #362

is what I am, kilos by grams
This a stick up man, get out your car man
Only way is to survive, if my AK jam
Like Jigga, I'm standing in my B-Boy stance

The tempo's slow, but with the whipped cream
(MIA, yo, London, yeh, a pound)
It's all for show, so come when I call

Ride with an underground king
Bun B bumpin'

By the time you get this note I will be nowhere to be found
I know the secret and I'm going underground
My eyes have seen the things they never

you'll be lucky if you're not a victim of a shooting
In Detroit, crack-head zombies still prostituting
In Detroit, where the underground rap don't get

International underground kings
Niggas like me took the harder route
Who the fuck you calling out?
We can tell that you just started out
You treat the game

plummets to the pit of my stomach
And runs it 
Tumble down to the underground
Surrounded by knuckle bounds on the down and down 
Death rays ablaze in a maze

Who came in the game
and ran the underground just by sayin' his name
Mike Jones-Jones, the dude that's so smooth
In 7 months he blew, split haters in

around
Ascending to a new plane
6 feet underground
It aint a game by name
But we play it anyway
This is what we do its goin on everyday

Everytime I try

been dying to teach
About the ways of the underground
How it spins round and round by adding those terrifying sounds
Make your way from the East

About the ways of the underground
How it's been around and around by adding those terrifying sounds
We go way from the east to the west
To the north

rats at party stos
Everybody knows, I'm heading down town
At the shelter, St. Andrews, underground
I want a gothic bitch I don't know, all leather

the grass
The rats underground
The lion asleep 
Got his paws on a crown
So yo nobody peep, and don't make a sound
Though all of his enemies creep in

If I could catch the feather blown by the breeze,
If I could heal the wound that starts to bleed,
I'd give a hand to the man under newspaper,
Do all I

Silence...
... while
Dreamful...
... I offered you
A smile...
... in a suspended flash
The spirit...
... was plucked away
By the...
... sacrilege of fatal

One, fives, and tens
No high denominations, won't fly by the Feds
Still I got the flow safe
With mo' Benjy's than the sugar in yo' cupcake ass, so
tell

gotta respect this flow (Respect this)
Rip the underground 95 to 94 (Uh-huh)
And even when I laugh at something incredible
(Ha ha ha ha) Throw up your O's

you be hearing in the background
Styles like a moaning and a whole strictly underground
But we be kicking all of these styles for a purpose
Never repeat

My shit's straight bile
You're mild, you've got no style
I won't be impressed
or you possessed by baliel
I make beats like surgeons resume
To stitch

and master Fuck you,
fuck you, fuck you Well I give my word Let me be held
by every word that I say Let me be held in every move
that I make Let me be falling

No where job on a dead end street

You ain't got a minute when the siren sounds
Gotta get movin' to the underground
But I gotta woman gonna love me

The spirit...
... was plucked away
By the...
... sacrilege of fatal arms!

Forever!
Remember?
Forever!
I kept the secret

"Where is the bride?"
"Forsaken him!"

and lick some balls,
You say the underground is crap, but why are you so bothered ?
Oh yes, maybe it hurts, by business-men being fucked,
But you're just

I'm so unsure
It drags me underground
When not a sound is heard

Through this distance
This distance I have found
The days and weeks go by
Without

I wanna know where the fuck are my down ass underground killas
Straight cap peelas
Walking the earth, been mean since birth
Taking every damn thing