[Intro: Murs]
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
[Verse 1: Murs & Rapsody]
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 Bruno
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
[Chorus: Reuben Vincent]
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
[Verse 2: Murs]
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 fringe 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
[Chorus: Reuben Vincent]
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
[Verse 3: Rapsody]
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
[Chorus: Reuben Vincent]
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
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