[Scratches: DJ Romes]
"Uh-ohh!" ("We in this to win this")
"Other MC's ain't got a chance at all..."
("Murs") "...Too advanced for ya'll"
"Uh-ohh!" ("We in this to win this")
"Other MC's ain't got a chance at all..."
("Murs") "...Too advanced for ya'll"
[Verse 1: Murs]
I make music unbelievable
Inconceivable – to the average MC
Those who don't understand how savage I-be–M...
–U-R-S; but so far from PC, 80 gig hard drive, 512 MB
Rip your audio files to shreds off the head
When AMP'ed to the point I want every rapper dead
Even in Sleep Mode
Take 'em down by the load without the McAfee scan
When a pen's in my fingers, iMac with my hands
And the game so tight it gets disc drives open
'Cause my CD's R-W-A-Y tight
More advanced than them MC's you say I'm like
A blue pen to encrypt what I say on mics
All day, all night, tryin' to break down my guard
But you can't crack the cypher of the underground Gods
Gonna make me fuck around and have to pull your sound card
[Scratches: DJ Romes]
"Uh-ohh!" ("We in this to win this")
"Other MC's ain't got a chance at all..."
("Murs") "...Too advanced for ya'll"
"Uh-ohh!" ("We in this to win this")
"Other MC's ain't got a chance at all..."
("Verse 2!") "...Too advanced for ya'll"
[Verse 2: Murs]
Now am I too dope for mainstream, or not that cool?
I'm not bitter, I'm just better than these top-ranked fools
While I'm waitin' patiently 'til it's my turn to rule
It's The Low End Theory, everything moves in cycles
The way that Kobe Bryant is just ampin' like he's Michael
I'm psycho – like those – East Coast niggas
Puttin' West Coast slang in they flow to make figures
Pop your collar to that, one time for me, homie
'Cause you can miss a nigga with that phony baloney
But I guess it's 'One Love', Hip-Hop unified
As long as you respect the origin, we won't hoo-ride
And you can have that one too
Use it as a gimmick to go Platinum through
'Cause my generation's comin' with that brand new
A whole gang of motherfuckers who can't stand you
So, please step aside
Or get yo' ass stepped on when we ride
[Scratches: DJ Romes]
"Uh-ohh!" ("We in this to win this")
"Other MC's ain't got a chance at all..."
("Murs") "...Too advanced for ya'll"
"Uh-ohh!" ("We in this to win this")
"Other MC's ain't got a chance at all..."
("Murs") "...Too advanced for ya'll"
[Verse 3: Murs]
I be on kamikaze missions, hittin' tracks head-on
For those who dare to disrespect this culture that I bled on
I'm headstrong, I make rash decisions
While I'm spittin' pure salt that'll crash your vision
You got the game on lock, then I smash your prison
I make empires crumble when I clash with rhythm
Your whole group straight fruit, with no passion in 'em
Yes, cash is venom, and we all been affected
But I made the antidote, when I wrote this record
You shouldn't have to be broke, so that folks respect it
You can still be a joke, with the dopest necklace
Just shittin' on the talent that you've been blessed with
Who the fuck am I to invoke "The Message"?
Haven't been to that level, but I hope I'm tested
When I get there, I hope I don't choke and wreck it
So I can go out dope–and most respected
[Scratches: DJ Romes]
"Uh-ohh!" ("We in this to win this")
"Other MC's ain't got a chance at all..."
("Murs") "...Too advanced for ya'll"
"Uh-ohh!" ("We in this to win this")
"Other MC's ain't got a chance at all..."
("Murs") "...Too advanced for ya'll"
