Murs - Murray's Law lyrics

(Murs) And I'm the four-letter word that you don't bleep out Got a question for you rappers rollin wit'cha heats out Is this really where you wanna be when Jesus come back? Lyin 'bout your life, over beats comin whack? And you say I'm backpack, cause I don't have a gat Man I just love life, and I'm dealin with the facts I'm young, I'm gifted, I'm beautiful and black And my momma didn't raise no fool like that I understand that you broke, you tryin to get money But you don't start g**nin in your mid-20's Don't know nothin 'bout the beef, or the gang that you claimin You ain't even worth namin! ... But I got a right hook that'll vacate your Timberlands Take this outside, set it straight like gentlemen I do feel the music so I kinda respect it But don't confuse ill lyrics with real street credit, c'mon (Interlude) Wat'chu gon' do man, ha? Get knocked out I'm real official like a referee with a whistle boy Get it right man My man Murs yo shut these cats down, holla! (Murs) I got my wallet in my pocket and my money in my sock Cause that's how it be when it's funny on the block Like it be on TV when these dummies try to rock With they secondhand flows like they runnin on a clock In a one minute cycle, I'm done with the rifles The tecs, the 9's, the k**ers, the psychos ... Look, now can we party? And I want a Shirley Temple cause I don't drink Bacardis ... But in a minute I'ma probably try to holla at a hottie with a, nice shaped body If she's into what I'm into we should worship at my temple I'ma, grind from behind as we wind to the tempo If she break it down slow, then it feel like mo' That's a Mayfield line for all of y'all who don't know All I do is have fun and bring life to the fans And I, don't need a gun cause I'm nice with my hands, c'mon (Interlude) Nice with my hands dawg, never seen the floor man Ask somebody, check the stats! Murs man, yo get at these fools though Let 'em know what's good baby, woo! (Murs) We shocked the world last year when, nobody heard of me My boy he got sk**s that's like, musical surgery Me you know the deal I'm a lyrical emergency We keepers of the real, just consider us security of the world, 9th, somethin like top flight As long as we in control everything's alright While the rest will steer you wrong with them songs that they thought up I wrestle with these words but I'm never gettin caught up ... In the drama and the BS Jumped up out the underground, you know I gotta be fresh Rhymes runnin through my mind all day, I press eject I gotta lay 'em down on these beats cause they need wreck Yesssss, I'm back for the title And I brought an iron fist, just to smack all your rivals Woulda thought I ran track, the way I ran through my rivals Man I swear I'm the truth, slap my hand on the bible Let's go