Keith Murray Straight Loonie Lyrics

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Testin one two three! Whoa I flow rhymes wicked
And bust some to keep me uplifted
It flows to my braincells like from smoke
I'm no joke I make an old man croak because I'm loc'
I'm wild psychosomatic I got gats
Stored in my attic for any crazy bastard
It's all in the mind when the E drops a rhyme
My freakin frame is like a pair of Calvin Klein's
I drop flows through Customs, and get sniffed out
Like I stole somethin when I'm bustin
I'm Don of mic with this ****
I rock on, to the breaker one-nine ya dig??
Erick Sermon got funk for days, for those who want to
Backstab me in the back, like the O'Jays!
Can't get these nuts on the real
It's gonna be a cold day in Hell before the E drops the steel!
ARRRRRRRRGH! I still rock with My Adidas
With Run-D.M.C. and Jay, my *****z packin heaters
So get off, get off, and if you want the real scoop
On the E Double, check the sounds!
I rise my eyes burnt like cherry
Get wise to my style more fly than Halle Berry
I don't know so I'm sayin bye-bye
until next try!!

Def Squad, is in the house, yo
Green Beret, is in the house, yo
L.O.D., is in the house, yo
Keith Murray, is in the house, yo

And Jesus is a ****in puppeteer! The devil cut my
Sights off, and I'm runnin wild in this atmosphere
For mad *****z it's curtains
I'm losin my mind, in this biological universe
In my dreams, I'll be gettin away drivin a hearse
So when I get to hell, I'm stabbin up the devil first
And leavin the skull decapitate his ***, catchin wreck
Rip off his head, and **** down his ****in neck (*****!)
From the little voice in my conscious
I might just leave a crazy-*** unconscious
And why, is a crooked letter like my alibi
A psychic couldn't tell the science of my mind
This man gets the wealth and y'all can all eat **** and die
Cause I'ma gets mines, *****!

West coast, is in the house, yo
East coast, is in the house, yo
N.Y.C., is in the house, yo
Lil' Jamal, is in the house, yo

Biddi-bla-ba-ba-ba, how ya like the Squad now?
I'ma come down to represent the juveniles
I kick styles that *****z can't **** with
Cause when I come down I cold wreck the whole ****
Now who the **** want to see Jamal I fades em all
And any ***** that step up, he's sure to fall
Now I come down to be the illest, the realest
Any ***** that step up, I'm ready to peal his
Cap, sit back relax and dwell on the ****
Cause I be the illest little kid I'm ready to rip
Any ************ that want to step *****
I'll let you know where the weapon is kept, how the **** you figure
That you can **** with me, I be the illest B.G.
Bustin from Philly, chillin up in Cali
Sally from the Valley ****ed me and she burned me
So you know I got the illest and I earned my props be
Fo sho' I'm ready to rip any MC who step
And let them know where the weapon is kept
You punk *****, and I hit a switch
Any ************ step I dump him in the ditch
Trick!

Written by: Damon Yul Wimbley, Darren Robinson, Erick S. Sermon, Jamal Phillips, Jimmy Glenn, Keith Omar Murray, Mark Morales, Roderick Lemont Kirkpatrick, Stephen C. Jr. Linsley, Trevor Smith
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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