3:16

[Woman singing]

Left me standin here

On this lonely street to cry

[Murs]

This is a Living Legends, Justice League

Definitive Jux production

Brought to you by 9th Wonder aaand Murs

[Verse 1]

What up though, still givin' a fuck so

Open up your changer and get ready to dump those

Disc of the dudes that be soundin' the same

They get up on TV, steady clownin' for fame

Disrespectin' ancestors that was bound in them chains

But I'm around in the game

So thangs is bound to change

I'm tryin to walk that thin line

Between intelligence and ignorance

Have a little fun while makin' music of significance

A nemesis to niggaz just bumpin' they gums

I give a fuck where you from

It's where your heart at bitch

You gon' bite, little doggie, or just bark that shit?

A slave to the rhythm, 9th spark that whip

Cause my heart can't quit, I got something to say

Cause these niggaz wanna act NWA

Niggaz wit artillery and nothin' to spray

Just some non-right assholes with nothin' to say

(That's right motherfuckas)

(Old salty-ass, sideways-ass motherfuckas)

(Y'all fucked up now, huh? Murs, get em)

[Verse 2]

I'm from where we leaving running and we hop outta cars

Jump out and beat you down in some new All-stars

No stars and stripes, just bars and pipes

And niggaz just start shootin', they too hard to fight

I'm scarred for life, and charge this mic with bars of fright

Dare any one of you frauds to bite

I'm raw as life with loss of wife and causin' strife

Spittin' sharp wit like I floss with knives

Not contrived or conceited, on your radio repeated

I'm elitist and I leave this Red Hot like Kiedis

I'm a Californicator and a street narrator

Steady runnin' rappers down until they meet their maker

Concrete caretaker to these weak imitators, they a

Screech to my Slater, piece of beef to a gator or the

Heat versus Lakers, I'ma speak to ya later

And let 9th take me out

With techniques and a fader

(What's wrong wit y'all man?)

(The fuck is y'all thinkin' bout?)

(Damn, them motherfuckas is lame man, get ya shit right man)

[Verse 3]

I'm from the home of Double K, nothin' but trouble gang

KWS's, LTS's, OFA's

And every other crew that used to rack cans and spray

And mob the RUD before the MTA

So don't hate what I say or talk down when I bust mine

Tryin' to make some green like the Culver city bus line

I'm unsigned and hyped, dump mines on site

This Living Legend gang what you punks rhymin' like

I combine with 9th, sickest with these beats

I mean so sick like he's forgettin' to eat

A hard man to take down like Michael Vick on his feet

And anybody chose me they was thinkin' defeat

I'ma spit with this heat until I get my credit

I'm a verbal martial artist like I'm signed to Shady Records

And you bitches best respect it or I will destroy you

Have your whole crew screamin' out "You're My Boy Blue!"