Whatuptho? - Murs

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

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

Hook 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