You are so dead, man He is- wow And that's why he's my DJ Who's DJ? Mine, shut up Be quiet Or get some sugar to your face (Haha) Yeah, punk ass (He's my DJ, he's my DJ) What are you gonna do? Huh? Huh? Uh On nights like this I write a rhyme that helps to clear my clouded mind Hit mics with such a rush it makes it feel as if I'm out of time I shouted mine and wasn't heard Ran in cyphers, and wasn't served Then I hit the streets with the faction that had passion for this rappin' Got it crackin' with more action than a dozen verbs Sonnin' herbs and punkin' busters Underground, the function hustler Slangin' this, or bangin' shit Fuck who you was hangin' wit' I'm claimin' mine, and wavin' signs, "Double-L", I'm brave with mines Serve yourself, save me time, see, I don't like you With my hands around your neck, yo, no tellin' what I might do There's no tellin' what I might do When the beats range I seek change in deep frames of thought When I leap lames to speak game your weak frame gets caught In the traffic of this magic, making classics as I travel He want static? You can have it, let's go at it, we can battle They call me Mister Hump Your Sister, makin' microphones blister Servin' heat up with my tongue, but I cooled it 'fore I kissed her Got her open, I might fist her, but I wish you understand (Uhhh) I warmed her up with my thumb before I gave her my whole hand Like I gave you one bar, to introduce myself as Murs Before I finished your career by givin' you a whole verse Love hurts! That's what I tell you and I told her It might be confusing, you'll understand when you get older That the trauma builds character, you've gotta understand You need to stop fuckin' around and be a man! Yes, a grand is what I need to lay my plays these days To you rich white kids who approach me at raves (Hey, Murs, hey, Murs!) You want me to do a verse on your underground tape But when I ask for some cash (What?), you say that I'm fake (Huh) I'm just tryna make a livin', look, I'd do it all for free If I could fuck your younger sibling- oops - there I go again Man, I'm on my way to Hell, the Devil's speakin' through my pen So please lord Jehovah, help me to get over Fantasies of teenage girls up on my sofa In them white cotton panties with the cartoon characters Sex with a minor is a major crime in these United States of America Man, I swear it is, should lock up your sister if Murs is in your area 'Cause if I catch her at the lecture, I'll undress her that night After I sex her, I'll respect her, then forget her in flight To the next city, we're performin' on the tour You love her, and I loved her for a night, she's not a whore Uh