Whatuptho? Lyrics & Tabs by Murs
Whatuptho?
guitar chords lyrics
Long live the Kane back, fuck cocaine rap
Twenty years later, niggas stuck in the same trap
I'm tryna slide through the game on a hoverboard
They still buying pork rinds from the corner store
We more advanced how we handle ours
Riding through the lane with Noa James on the handlebars
Tryna push the bigger picture
Spinach, kale and celery sticks be the elixir
Yup 9th on the mixer, the final adventure
New jam only the true fans allowed to enter
Z-U-L-U the nation here to tell you
Be careful of the media and what they tryna sell you
I'm tryna sell too, have a million followers
But never sell out just to get my dollars up
This is for all of us, lovers and the free thinkers
I'm tryna sell too, have a million followers
But never sell out just to get my dollars up
This is for all of us, lovers and the free thinkers
Rosay sippers and the green tea drinkers yeah
What's up fam, what's up bro
This is the jam, whatup though
Whatup though, whatup though
Whatup though, whatup though
There ain't no difference between, a gangbanger
And Malcolm X, the same anger
Just misdirected now neighborhoods infected
So I gotta speak the truth, by the youth I've been selected
So presidential, still rep my residential
Nine double O one nine is my credential
True artist brought rap to the museum
Might bring the Raiders back to the Coliseum
They say he's so black that it's hard to see him
So I'm smiling in my pictures, word to Morgan Freeman
This for the Glory, the Almighty
Take 50 cent and make millions, word to Chris Lighty
This rap game truly is a blessing homie
So I gotta be a blessing through my testimony
I made it through, you can make it too
Give it all you got, nothing they can take from you
For the dark skinned white girls and the silly ones
For the fly chick working at the Cinnabon
What's good with a free Dr. Pepper though
it up and be a guest at my next show
I'm bugging out, tryna make the speakers throb
Shout out to everybody out there tryna keep a job
It's love first, money under that
But ain't nothing wrong with you tryna get a hundred racks
Stacking good karma like rappers stack they cash up
Tryna get to heaven with a presidential tax cut
Always keep a smart chick, with a fat butt
Long as we around, you can never say that rap sucks
Won't react to hate, on some boss shit
Tryna reach the comic books while doing crossfit
Because the body is a temple
And all these tattoos is like stained glass windows
