| 作曲 : Carter, Haynes | |
| (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 | |
| [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 "**** 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 **** that! | |
| Hut one, attack! | |
| So save all the smiling and folklore | |
| I'ma rep hard and keep shit raw |
| zuo qu : Carter, Haynes | |
| 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 | |
| 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 " 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 that! | |
| Hut one, attack! | |
| So save all the smiling and folklore | |
| I' ma rep hard and keep shit raw |
| zuò qǔ : Carter, Haynes | |
| 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 | |
| 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 " 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 that! | |
| Hut one, attack! | |
| So save all the smiling and folklore | |
| I' ma rep hard and keep shit raw |
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