murs - 2 original lyrics
[intro: murs & 45 acp]
yo, you got that, duke?
underground
yo, haha
underground
2 original
underground
you fakin’ ass n+ggas
from mid+city blocks
underground, underground
2 original, check this sh+t out
underground
2 original! motherf+ckin’ straight
underground, underground
mid+city, n+gga, mid+city, n+gga
mid+city, check it out
underground
[verse 1: 45 acp & murs]
i’m a weapon of mass destruction on the mic
and far as my prototype, like a swat team, my vocals slice
un+original, meltin’ brains, my main frame’s to leave mental frames and blood stains
internally, my poet style bust externally
eternity holdin’ down my [?], city, west bound, my town
in a scandalous+ass, wickedest plantation
us underground n+ggas is cleanin’ up the sanitations
you hip+hop heads is facin’ all bullsh+t
more [?], to help provide [?] enterprise
and commercialise false living
having you worshippin’ cats who sinning
but this is a new beginning, a new experience of peace winnin’ (yeah)
we doin’ underground big thangs, and all this sh+t gon’ change (what?)
catch that feelin’, mane
(aww, f+ck! straight up)
n+gga, you goin’ down the motherf+ckin’ sack…
[interlude: murs]
underground
n+gga, 2 original
2 motherf+ckin’ original
underground
motherf+ckers comin’ at you, 2, straight from the
underground, underground
underground, underground, f+ck that, yeah
[verse 2: murs]
wannabee original (yeah, what), thoughts torn from my subliminal
look down over beats, can’t help but be unique
raised in these mid+city streets
now i heard some b+tches say
that the east side is dingy, and the west side is trinny
but this is straight+up mid+city
can’t nare n+gga bend me, now i’m
straighter than most, but that don’t mean you can play me close
’cause i will have done my crimes, but never done no times
now i run my rhymes one of a kind, until i clock out
angry n+ggas that mastered the artistry of a knockout
playin’ nintendo 64 until my brain rot out
but still these concepts remain (what?) well thought+out
brought out the best in these b+tch n+ggas, so call me a pimp
style og, like my n+gga troy limp (simp)
in it for a minute while these other n+ggas just temp
so when yo’ b+tch ass is gettin’ laid off, i just be gettin’ layed
say what?
i flash a rhyme that make yo’ b+tch put ’em on a glass like lay+ups (hahaha)
stay up, out my face and you won’t get dissed
’cause before i give yo’ ass a rhyme i’d rather give you my b+tch
than let you breathe on this microphone
you couldn’t swing on my sh+t if it was in the strike zone
y’all n+ggas still tryna see l.a. (what?), but we can’t be seen (h+ll no)
’cause we be duckin’ 5+0 helicopters, tryna escape the crime scene
between, murs jump in the ring, turn in to steam, b+tch
we out like this, mid+city gang (what?)
[interlude: murs]
underground
2 original motherf+ckers
underground, underground
comin’ at you from a+ you know that sh+t
mid+city life
underground, underground
stop
underground
straight up
[outro]
underground, underground
underground, underground
underground
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