Blu, EXILE - Miles Davis lyrics

Swing, swing swing, wait, wait
Yeah, Miles Davis (My bad) uh, yeah, uh

I autograph my cash and called a cab
We on the map (Map)
Back in New York City like a Dodger cap
Blu, smooth like blue suede shoes
I told my homie, "Improve
" I'm Tim Allen with the tools
I built my booth made of jewels
Left a hole in the speaker
Stepped in the stu', no shoes
But got more soul than sneakers
Below the clouds holdin' the crown
A Coke and a smile
But on the humble, word to mumbles
All balls don't bounce
But yet a thousand styles flip out
When the DJ spin out
Hit's out, spit back a hundred rounds
Pulled the clip out the most dope
Niggas get roached tryna approach the host
We lay it down, yo, butterin' toast
And introduction to the pro, most fit
To hold his dick and spit
A loaded clip to hit the listener's mitt
I invent too many patterns to
Pattern your path after
Tell them rappers that we got it mastered, yo

Miles Davis mi-Mi-Miles Davis (The leader)
Mi-Mi-Miles Davis (Trumpet) miles Davis

It's kinda Blu, but kinda new, colossal too
My whole team supreme
It's like a dream come true
I thought you knew like the words to
Brooklyn Zoo how we cook the stu' (Stu')
Homie my hook up might cut up
You hook your tooth salute the best of
Niggas hear this and drop their best stuff
We next up
Hop off the deck 'fore your cassette bust
You couldn't blow it, Coltrane in the mall
Playin' the funk but y'all need
To be hangin' it up you cats washed up
Cuttin' with vets and got your paws plucked
Prison guards couldn't lock ours
Get your bars up
Bar none, nigga, Jay Barnes get the job done
We could be Siamese twins, still my squad won
My due, my rent late, I still pay dues
I'm too cool, too G
I sing the Ill Street Blues
Born in '83, still gettin' it in '82
And ain't a person on Earth
That could fill these shoes

Miles Davis
Mi-Mi-Miles Davis (Remember Miles)
Mi-Mi-Miles Davis miles Davis
Miles Davis
Mi-Mi-Miles Davis (Remember Miles)
Mi-Mi-Miles Davis miles Davis

Yeah, uh ex' cut it
(Cut it) the black trumpet (Uh)
You couldn't strum it (Nah)
That instrumental hit
You in your stomach when you run it
Crowds plummet tryna touch it
The gold on the sound make you
Run out and crown somethin'
It's the best, the next in the West
Cover your chest
Like Muslims cover they neck
Truth seekers summon my text
Bi-coastal for bifocals
It'll knock your trial over
You tryna chop with the top chef? Try over
Who rhyme colder from California? (Uh)
You catch pneumonia in the city
That Biggie wrote rhymes over
Blow tweeters out speakers like
"Ether" through your aethers, yeah
Eat up receivers with the signal
I'ma leave ya it's the code of the
Street sweeper, the sleep, sleep
Deeper to the hair on my people
Beatin' blocks with the single
I see you coverin' ass like Utah fans
But John Stockton couldn't pass
Talkin' all that jazz

Miles Davis
Mi-Mi-Miles Davis (Remember Miles)
Mi-Mi-Miles Davis miles Davis
Miles Davis
Mi-Mi-Miles Davis (Remember Miles)
Mi-Mi-Miles Davis miles Davis
Miles Davis uh, Miles Davis
Miles Davis (Cuttin' loose with the band)
The leader, trumpet miles, Miles Davis
(Miles Davis cuttin' loose with the band)
Miles Davis swing, swing, swing
Oh, oh