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(feat. Murs) [Mr. Lif:] Brother Murs with the keys to fame [x3] Crazy respect, crazy connects Got me so busy I'm dizzy so what's next? Look up the in sky It's a bird, it's a plane Nah, it's brother Murs with the keys to fame This guy got crazy respect Crazy connects Got me so busy I'm dizzy so what's next? [Murs:] I got a call from George Bush Says he knows about your trap How you put Kanye up to saying all that Used it as a fool proof scheme to distract The government from the true political rap But look, I got your back, Lif That's what I'm here for You want, I can throw you on a track with Al Gore I got him on hold He's waiting on line one I can have him drop a verse just as soon as my rhyme's done Letras de canciones [Mr. Lif:] Nah, son! He don't write his own shit This is not a good look Politicians are crooks [Murs:] But look, that ain't a reason not to impeach the president Plus, Rakim's been trying to reach you at the residence What, you got your ringer off? Think you need some downtime? You know there ain't no rest to this underground grind (true) Plus, we got that show in the Caymans And you ain't even packed yet And what about the ghostwriting job for Ben Affleck? I'm your ambassador of kwan Caretaker of the coif Telling every single male groupie "step the hell off!" Marshall Mathers, Shawn Carter, even Andre Benjamin Call sayin' what an inspiration you have been to them All they really want is a couple of guest appearances No more cameos Take your album serious You turned down Nikki, Paris and Tara Reid A dedication to your craft that your fans won't believe Forget the King magazine girls No time for silly hoes Gwen still mad you missed the "Hollaback" video You gotta call her, Lif No time for stallin', dude She seen you at the Grammys Bitches fallin' all over you [Mr. Lif:] Yeah! I had to tell the ladies to chill Won four Grammies from the strength of my will (power) Pivotal, digital maneuver Yo, Ak! What did Craig Mack say? (Computer!) Told you back in '99, none can test One arm Earth in my palm And sun in my chest When I yawn it's dawn My tooth chips Lunar eclipse Now everybody's running for their limos and whips My target: the red carpet The dead market I'ma have to end this shit the way that it started That's when I pull out my blade and start slashing Just my way to say "fuck high fashion!" How do you remain in the game so long? Take time off yet return so stong? Well, I've got something to tell ya' Nigga, you're gonna need an umbrella My reigns begins right now and never ends 40 days and nights of sightly sights We know Lif And you're not the type he likes Better teleport, son (Oh!) Here that nigga comes (Hello!) What are you doing here? You've got a synthetic frame and human hair I've got a cybernetic chest so, yes I'm pulling the plug Soon as you glitch My dome itch Another revelation presentation Beyond estimations, guesstimations Analysis, I'm wild at this Don't even ask what style this is You could never even breathe on my styluses So head back to Skipjacks with that, they're hiring I burned up the stage, now they need some firemen I find dissecting your frame and chewing your myelin Inspiring And totally tiring So I'ma rest but I'll be back And while I'm gone rap niggaz better not slack I'll eat you like a snack, black Play Blackjack with Jack Black Do a no footed Nac Nac Play Hack Sack Nah, I'm into football, so fuck that! Hut one, attack! So save all the smiling and folklore I'ma rep hard and keep shit raw From Letras Mania