Marcy Me
π΅ 2091 characters
β±οΈ 2:54 duration
π ID: 543956
π Lyrics
Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one representing BK to the fullest
Bastards ducking when Hov be buckin', chicken heads be cluckin', uh
Back when ratchet was a ratchet and the vixen was a vixen and Jam Master Jay was alive, I was mixing
Cooking coke in the kitchen back when Rodman was a Piston
Mike was losing to Isiah but he soon would get his sixth one
Gave birth to my verbal imagination, assume a virtue if you have not
Or better yet here's a verse from Hamlet
"Lord, we know who we are
Yet we know not what we may be"
So maybe I'm the one or maybe I'm crazy
I'm from Marcy houses where the boys die by the thousand
Back when Pam was on Martin yeah that's where it all started
When Denzel was blottin' carpet, I'll pack a nine millimeter when Slick Rick made Mona Lisa
When Lisa Bonet was BeyoncΓ© of her day, I had divas ya'll
Think I just popped up in this bitch like a fetus? Nah
Pregnant pause, give you some second thoughts
There's room on the bandwagon, don't abort
Marcy me
Marcy me
Streets is my artery, the vein of my existence
I'm the Gotham City heartbeat
I started in lobbies now, parley with Saudis
Sufi to the goofies I could probably speak Farsi
That's poetry read a coca leaf from my past
Came through the bushes smelling like roses I need a trophy just for that
Old Brooklyn not this new shit, shit feel like a spoof
Fat laces in your shoe I'm talking busting off the roof
Hold a uzi vertical, let the thing smoke
Y'all flirting with death, I be winking through the scope
Shout out to all the murderers turned murals, plural, fuck the Federal Bureau
Shout out to Nostrand Ave, Flushing Ave, Myrtle
All the County of Kings, may your ground stay fertile
Shout out to Big Poppa, Daddy Kane, heroes
Thus concluding my concerto, Marcy me
Must be in the air, oh can't walk away I know, I know
Just the way I was raised I know, I know, I know
Oh Marcy, Marcy me just the way I am, always gonna be
I ain't gonna change, no
Marcy, Marcy me, just the way I am
I know, I know, I ain't gonna change, no
(Como as minhas mueos tocando aqui
Eu nuo canto do mundo, o meu tempo)
Bastards ducking when Hov be buckin', chicken heads be cluckin', uh
Back when ratchet was a ratchet and the vixen was a vixen and Jam Master Jay was alive, I was mixing
Cooking coke in the kitchen back when Rodman was a Piston
Mike was losing to Isiah but he soon would get his sixth one
Gave birth to my verbal imagination, assume a virtue if you have not
Or better yet here's a verse from Hamlet
"Lord, we know who we are
Yet we know not what we may be"
So maybe I'm the one or maybe I'm crazy
I'm from Marcy houses where the boys die by the thousand
Back when Pam was on Martin yeah that's where it all started
When Denzel was blottin' carpet, I'll pack a nine millimeter when Slick Rick made Mona Lisa
When Lisa Bonet was BeyoncΓ© of her day, I had divas ya'll
Think I just popped up in this bitch like a fetus? Nah
Pregnant pause, give you some second thoughts
There's room on the bandwagon, don't abort
Marcy me
Marcy me
Streets is my artery, the vein of my existence
I'm the Gotham City heartbeat
I started in lobbies now, parley with Saudis
Sufi to the goofies I could probably speak Farsi
That's poetry read a coca leaf from my past
Came through the bushes smelling like roses I need a trophy just for that
Old Brooklyn not this new shit, shit feel like a spoof
Fat laces in your shoe I'm talking busting off the roof
Hold a uzi vertical, let the thing smoke
Y'all flirting with death, I be winking through the scope
Shout out to all the murderers turned murals, plural, fuck the Federal Bureau
Shout out to Nostrand Ave, Flushing Ave, Myrtle
All the County of Kings, may your ground stay fertile
Shout out to Big Poppa, Daddy Kane, heroes
Thus concluding my concerto, Marcy me
Must be in the air, oh can't walk away I know, I know
Just the way I was raised I know, I know, I know
Oh Marcy, Marcy me just the way I am, always gonna be
I ain't gonna change, no
Marcy, Marcy me, just the way I am
I know, I know, I ain't gonna change, no
(Como as minhas mueos tocando aqui
Eu nuo canto do mundo, o meu tempo)
β±οΈ Synced Lyrics
[00:06.02] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one representing BK to the fullest
[00:12.22] Bastards ducking when Hov be buckin', chicken heads be cluckin', uh
[00:16.34] Back when ratchet was a ratchet and the vixen was a vixen and Jam Master Jay was alive, I was mixing
[00:22.13] Cooking coke in the kitchen back when Rodman was a Piston
[00:25.00] Mike was losing to Isiah but he soon would get his sixth one
[00:27.90] Gave birth to my verbal imagination, assume a virtue if you have not
[00:31.33] Or better yet here's a verse from Hamlet
[00:33.69] "Lord, we know who we are
[00:34.86] Yet we know not what we may be"
[00:36.46] So maybe I'm the one or maybe I'm crazy
[00:39.19] I'm from Marcy houses where the boys die by the thousand
[00:41.99] Back when Pam was on Martin yeah that's where it all started
[00:44.92] When Denzel was blottin' carpet, I'll pack a nine millimeter when Slick Rick made Mona Lisa
[00:50.53] When Lisa Bonet was BeyoncΓ© of her day, I had divas ya'll
[00:53.81] Think I just popped up in this bitch like a fetus? Nah
[00:56.80] Pregnant pause, give you some second thoughts
[00:59.91] There's room on the bandwagon, don't abort
[01:02.02] Marcy me
[01:08.28] Marcy me
[01:09.70] Streets is my artery, the vein of my existence
[01:12.14] I'm the Gotham City heartbeat
[01:13.37] I started in lobbies now, parley with Saudis
[01:16.50] Sufi to the goofies I could probably speak Farsi
[01:19.50] That's poetry read a coca leaf from my past
[01:22.22] Came through the bushes smelling like roses I need a trophy just for that
[01:25.11] Old Brooklyn not this new shit, shit feel like a spoof
[01:27.94] Fat laces in your shoe I'm talking busting off the roof
[01:30.55] Hold a uzi vertical, let the thing smoke
[01:33.70] Y'all flirting with death, I be winking through the scope
[01:36.36] Shout out to all the murderers turned murals, plural, fuck the Federal Bureau
[01:42.29] Shout out to Nostrand Ave, Flushing Ave, Myrtle
[01:45.31] All the County of Kings, may your ground stay fertile
[01:48.12] Shout out to Big Poppa, Daddy Kane, heroes
[01:50.88] Thus concluding my concerto, Marcy me
[01:54.41] Must be in the air, oh can't walk away I know, I know
[02:01.04] Just the way I was raised I know, I know, I know
[02:05.09] Oh Marcy, Marcy me just the way I am, always gonna be
[02:15.00] I ain't gonna change, no
[02:17.72] Marcy, Marcy me, just the way I am
[02:25.54] I know, I know, I ain't gonna change, no
[02:31.09] (Como as minhas mueos tocando aqui
[02:39.04] Eu nuo canto do mundo, o meu tempo)
[00:12.22] Bastards ducking when Hov be buckin', chicken heads be cluckin', uh
[00:16.34] Back when ratchet was a ratchet and the vixen was a vixen and Jam Master Jay was alive, I was mixing
[00:22.13] Cooking coke in the kitchen back when Rodman was a Piston
[00:25.00] Mike was losing to Isiah but he soon would get his sixth one
[00:27.90] Gave birth to my verbal imagination, assume a virtue if you have not
[00:31.33] Or better yet here's a verse from Hamlet
[00:33.69] "Lord, we know who we are
[00:34.86] Yet we know not what we may be"
[00:36.46] So maybe I'm the one or maybe I'm crazy
[00:39.19] I'm from Marcy houses where the boys die by the thousand
[00:41.99] Back when Pam was on Martin yeah that's where it all started
[00:44.92] When Denzel was blottin' carpet, I'll pack a nine millimeter when Slick Rick made Mona Lisa
[00:50.53] When Lisa Bonet was BeyoncΓ© of her day, I had divas ya'll
[00:53.81] Think I just popped up in this bitch like a fetus? Nah
[00:56.80] Pregnant pause, give you some second thoughts
[00:59.91] There's room on the bandwagon, don't abort
[01:02.02] Marcy me
[01:08.28] Marcy me
[01:09.70] Streets is my artery, the vein of my existence
[01:12.14] I'm the Gotham City heartbeat
[01:13.37] I started in lobbies now, parley with Saudis
[01:16.50] Sufi to the goofies I could probably speak Farsi
[01:19.50] That's poetry read a coca leaf from my past
[01:22.22] Came through the bushes smelling like roses I need a trophy just for that
[01:25.11] Old Brooklyn not this new shit, shit feel like a spoof
[01:27.94] Fat laces in your shoe I'm talking busting off the roof
[01:30.55] Hold a uzi vertical, let the thing smoke
[01:33.70] Y'all flirting with death, I be winking through the scope
[01:36.36] Shout out to all the murderers turned murals, plural, fuck the Federal Bureau
[01:42.29] Shout out to Nostrand Ave, Flushing Ave, Myrtle
[01:45.31] All the County of Kings, may your ground stay fertile
[01:48.12] Shout out to Big Poppa, Daddy Kane, heroes
[01:50.88] Thus concluding my concerto, Marcy me
[01:54.41] Must be in the air, oh can't walk away I know, I know
[02:01.04] Just the way I was raised I know, I know, I know
[02:05.09] Oh Marcy, Marcy me just the way I am, always gonna be
[02:15.00] I ain't gonna change, no
[02:17.72] Marcy, Marcy me, just the way I am
[02:25.54] I know, I know, I ain't gonna change, no
[02:31.09] (Como as minhas mueos tocando aqui
[02:39.04] Eu nuo canto do mundo, o meu tempo)