The Dance

Lyrics

[Intro: Murs] Let's do it Ah-ah, ah Ah-ah, ah Uh-huh, hah, uh, ha Ha-ha-ha-ha, ha [Verse 1: Murs] You didn't think me and El was comin' like this Def Jux, motherfucker, and we run this shit Got you all up on your keyboard stunnin' and shit Oh, you got a couple jokes, now you funny bitch? (Ha-ha) And we laughin' all the way to the bank On point in the cut, like we holdin' a shank Got it all up on ya back, now you walkin' a plank Try to do it like this, bitch, you drawing a blank Do it double-time all up in your face Like piranhas when you drop fresh meat in the tank Fell off in the game, can't keep ya rank Mad 'cause you try to rap shit, but you ain't Been around no real shit where crews peel clips Niggas that kill for fun Wanna talk that ill shit, sayin' how you kill shit Bullets still in ya gun Kool-Aid in ya veins, so now you gotta change clothes 'Cause you pissed ya pants Saw me Durango, said you wanna tango Now, this is the dance Where ya shoes at? Where ya crew at? Claim you do gats, but you do rap What, you gonna bust a verse right before the guns burst? Push ya girl on the ground so that you can run first? Now you 'bout to get rolled up, hold up, wait Just an MC that was tryin' to make cake Now you got a gun all up in ya face All of a sudden found God like Run and Ma$e Thought it'd be fun to front on tape Now you wish you would have stuck to drum 'n' bass But you had to be hard on the boulevard When you never gangbanged a day in ya town Try to be a manhunter, when the streets ain't a jungle Jim nigga stop playin' around, lay it down... [Chorus: Murs] This is the dance! You don't wanna be late, 'cause the moment won't wait Better get your shit straight This is your chance! You don't have to be fake, with a heart full of hate just to try to save face This is the dance! You don't wanna be late, 'cause the moment won't wait Better get your shit straight This is your chance! You don't have to be fake, with a heart full of hate just to try to save face This is the dance! You don't wanna be late, 'cause the moment won't wait Better get your shit straight This is your chance! You don't have to be fake, with a heart full of hate just to try to save face (Yeah, right) [Verse 2: Murs & El-P] Murs fall up in the spot like "what up, bitch?" Approached by this girl like, "shut up, bitch" Than I grab the microphone and I cut up kids Like a hot knife straight through a butter stick Now I'm in the spotlight 'bout to rock all night Shot of tequila, then a hot mamacita Who said she know to swallow 'bout nine margaritas Body on point so I follow the leader Need more tequila so I swallow the liter How can the night get sweeter? (Can't) So I passed out, woke up, do it again Oh, Netherworlds told y'all crew "in to win" High velocity, high viscosity, slippin' right past your animosity Fans are constantly askin' me "who said what?" and "who has beef?" My crew got stuck in rumours deep So we try to weigh it out with the truth laid out (Stomp the bastard) That shit's played out, there's more to your life than underground rap What you waste all ya time and you wanna run it back? All on the message board runnin' your yap At the end of the night, only wanted to chat Now you know that you got issues That early in the morn', you should look at some porn And jack off right in the tissue Then call it a night, that's probably the life Go to sleep with the girl that you callin' your wife Wake up to the same shit, different day Everybody onto work and they on the way 'Cause we all got bills and rent to pay Lend to the Earth, wasn't meant to stay So before I get gone, tryna make a hit song that'll always get some play (Right) Got the homey El-Producto lurkin' in the cut, so, what you got to say? (Yo, yo, it's like this) [Verse 3: El-P] You wanna trace along the pattern of fair, please rap I wanna pattern how the drunk end mechanism I.D. jury breath commence fresh Test the match, metal on the chestplate tech Better win a smile right, on a foul night, die right With a highlight primal fright in the prime of life, with a double ox razor blade fade like '88 It's the revenge of the wits and laser face, oh, great (Two, three) God to analog monkey not me rock hard and shit The radio flyer kid, flyin' with a boombox packed wit' clips Faggots wanna rat-ta-tat-tat at this In a PT cruiser, he grieves lucifer Here comes the booster bruiser, better get used to losin' movement They couldn't move like El, Ox, Murs, Lif, or Bazooka Tooth did, so useless So useless tip that'll have a little truth in it like (Poof) Deep space nine milli mechanism just raised the roof again Who stays on a move that says Tricky with a shake ring catapult, crawl through the trenches Revelation manufacture, eat sentence, our city Or compositive battle, torn logic pretty All the hard acts, tomorrow brings heads or home up in me, come get me I'm for this shitty dizzy spinning lawless constant progress, who's with me? Fabulous thunder bird, word nerd, underdog, Tom Pill shit Who heard kill quick And innovative since '96, they still ride the dick I refined the style with wild ways from an error with an automan mix Community watch groups and lace young kids Hit the road, skippy I don't answer to you, George Bush or the wartime committee Dumber than a mongulary race movin' shit With a heart of hell scribblage, bruisin' shit Every time you make a move in the industry, starts a new movement, kid I'm not losin', bitch Set the steam on the E with an edge of a generation new ruthlessness Who's in charge, check into your new leader, man, stop the foolishness Cop the new shit, bitch