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We Run It
Dark Skinned Assassin
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Yeah, New York
Down, bottom
Let's get it
Love the Glock nine, quick to cock mine, make the block mine
Official heat holder, dog, believe I got mine
War? Is that what y'all clowns lookin' for?
Strap up, son, better back up or get clapped up
Street gangsta from day one, love to act up
S.I., we live wires, creepin' in them black trucks
Do the math, you run with nine niggas in your crew
Plus your sister, two brothers, you and your boo
Subtractin' sixteen side Glock, remained the two
In case your moms and pops got somethin' to prove
Reload, throw another clip in
Cock back, slip in, one in the chamber, start flippin'
Rippin' muscle tissue when the lead starts spittin'
We cook beef, keep the heat hot in Hell's Kitchen
Listen, hardhead bitches, I get my slap on
Hardhead bitch niggas, I get my clap on
Buck, buck, gun 'em down
Big trucks, run 'em down
Fake thugs, son 'em now
Hip-Hop, we run it now
Buck, buck, gun 'em down
Big trucks, run 'em down
Fake thugs, son 'em now
Hip-Hop, we run it now
Me and my constituents burn haze, plead innocent
Pull out them instruments, put holes in Sean John
Bong bong, S.I.C. the campaign
We let our balls hang here
'Til the day I'm slain here, remain grain
Bastard child walkin' a backwards mile, fuck what you thought
Twenty cents dipped in Newport
Bling around here get your crew caught
Seven-Two-Oh, four-fours
Then back to the fort in the new Porsche
Rope the sacks, we out for the stacks
Outfitted in black, ratchets, black mask, the jux master
N.Y.C. housing breeds crooks
Where the keys cook, got the fiends hooked, the V's hooked up
Ruthless Juice got the D's shook up
Fifth borough semi-retarded
Police presence thick, 'cause we start shit
Black-hearted regardless, throw lead at the target
(Throw lead at the target for real)
Buck, buck, gun 'em down
Big trucks, run 'em down
Fake thugs, son 'em now
Hip-Hop, we run it now
Buck, buck, gun 'em down
Big trucks, run 'em down
Fake thugs, son 'em now
Hip-Hop, we run it now
Some niggas only bring war in a rap song
Front like you just rapped and you heard the rap wrong
Who the don? Get your naps gone, get your nap on, it's on
Try to outrun the gun, get your back torn
Sleep forever, give a fuck if your moms and your bitch weep forever
S.I.C., we the terror
Doc E-M-A, a.k.a. Dr. Lecter
The bone collector, the chrome-totin' lead injector
The microphone perfecter
S.I., N.Y., Stapleton, project protector
Down for whatever
Known to handle my biz, no stranger to a bid
Water split a nigga wig, scream at the kid
Gun for hire, got your team screamin', "Son is fire"
Major queen my personal bun supplier
ย
S.I.C., nigga
Buck, buck, gun 'em down
Big trucks, run 'em down
Fake thugs, son 'em now
Hip-Hop, we run it now
Buck, buck, gun 'em down
Big trucks, run 'em down
Fake thugs, son 'em now
Hip-Hop, we run it now
ย
Smokin', drinkin'
ย