Move! Get Up! L.I.F.E. Long
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L.I.F.E. Long - “Move! Get Up!”
[Emcee(s): L.I.F.E. Long]
[Producer(s): Black Panther]
[Intro: Sample from [?]]
[?]: Hello! We’re standing on a street corner in New York City. Few moments, you’re gonna hear all the sounds of this street through binaural reproduction
[Interlude 1: L.I.F.E. Long]
Yeah, yeah. Come on. What? [?] word, word. Yeah. Jah bless, y’all. Yeah, Jah bless, y’all. Jah bless your life
[Verse 1: L.I.F.E. Long]
It’s just
Another New York story of pain and struggle felt
Worldwide. Shout-out to those who hustle to get their
Name up productively, staying alive, survive
Through whatever you do, working to survive. Some get
Caught up in 9-to-5’s, wasting time. Plus bills
Unpaid and other talents can’t shine, so I’ll
Balance both like I’m supposed to. Long nights
In studios. Can’t sleep—rent’s due. Twenty-
-four hours, seven days a week walk the streets
Even without a disc, man, I’m hearing beats
At my job, on the low, crafting rhymes. Knowing now’s
My time. [?] defined. My exact
Calculation of coordinates of my movements
Improvement is my daily task, traveling on cement
Of foreign grounds, leaving marks, putting it down
Proper like no stress, arrived lost, now found
[Emcee(s): L.I.F.E. Long]
[Producer(s): Black Panther]
[Intro: Sample from [?]]
[?]: Hello! We’re standing on a street corner in New York City. Few moments, you’re gonna hear all the sounds of this street through binaural reproduction
[Interlude 1: L.I.F.E. Long]
Yeah, yeah. Come on. What? [?] word, word. Yeah. Jah bless, y’all. Yeah, Jah bless, y’all. Jah bless your life
[Verse 1: L.I.F.E. Long]
It’s just
Another New York story of pain and struggle felt
Worldwide. Shout-out to those who hustle to get their
Name up productively, staying alive, survive
Through whatever you do, working to survive. Some get
Caught up in 9-to-5’s, wasting time. Plus bills
Unpaid and other talents can’t shine, so I’ll
Balance both like I’m supposed to. Long nights
In studios. Can’t sleep—rent’s due. Twenty-
-four hours, seven days a week walk the streets
Even without a disc, man, I’m hearing beats
At my job, on the low, crafting rhymes. Knowing now’s
My time. [?] defined. My exact
Calculation of coordinates of my movements
Improvement is my daily task, traveling on cement
Of foreign grounds, leaving marks, putting it down
Proper like no stress, arrived lost, now found
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