название:
автор:
Run It (The Town OST) (prod. by Statik Selektah)
автор:
Slaine (of La Coka Nostra)
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 4.7 / 686 просмотров
- Текст
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[Intro] We raping and pillaging the whole rap industry. (Better run that [bad word] ) Anything we can’t get on our own we coming to take it. Right here, play them horns, Statik. I like that [bad word] we do it Boston style. In Boston if we can’t get it we just go steal it. You know what I’m saying? Check it. [Verse 1] Listen, I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t My alcoholism’s a prison, my rhythm is possessed I’m the devil in the flesh, exorcism is next My x-ray vision is infested with , drugs, and Techs I’m a star when I rock and roll I can knock em home with my dome So [bad word] cold my ? and my vodka ? Raspberry got me barking so dark and cold I’m a poet going going gold holding on his [bad word] and balls Singing every note that I wrote the octave off Push you off your [bad word] pedestal, they tell me knock it off Pocket’s poor, raping rap music till my [bad word] is soft Married to this life, it’s a wonder that I’m not divorced Copping whores four in the morning and I’m coughing hoarse Hanging out the window shooting [bad word] shotguns off This is who I am and I’m always setting drama off [bad word] the twelve steps, I’mma throw you off your momma’s porch [Chorus] Your whips, your [bad word] your wristwatch, your chain Cadillac Escalade, it’s not the same We thieves with deep beef and pickpocket change Better run your [bad word] (run it) Your whips, your [bad word] your wristwatch, your chain Cadillac Escalade, it’s not the same We thieves with deep beef and pickpocket change Better run your [bad word] (run it) [Verse 2] Yo you can tell that we’re fools by the hell that we choose Man I’m going for the gusto I keep telling these dudes I’m either getting rich, dead, or rocking felony shoes I ain’t Boston George so [bad word] him and Penelope Cruz Listen, this isn’t vicious enough, this is a mixture of drugs I [bad word] the system all up, this is a picture of us I never [bad word] in a cup, can’t fit my wrists in the cuffs I don’t believe in the law, I didn’t listen enough You should be listening up, I got a pistol that’s tough I got an AK, [bad word] barely fits in the trunk I’m throwing fits when I’m drunk, I’m going spaz with the gats I came so far I laugh while you fathom the fact I passionately pattern a track, rats imagine I’m back Imagining that as I add another stack [bad word] society, they’re telling me I should calm down probably But I’m notorious like a Charlestown robbery [Chorus] [bad word]
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