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Run It
EPMD
,
KRS‐One
Popularity · Low
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🇬🇧 English · Original
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Hardcore, uh, uh
(Everybody on the floor!)
BMD, Erick Sermon, uh, yes!
(Everybody on the floor!)
(You know what it is, listen to my man)
Uh-huh, run your jewelry
Hands up, yeah
Yes! Peace to Just-Ice
Be scared, Bronx
Yo, the real dynamic duo, and I quote
D-boys, I bring it back to a dukey rope
Yo, I spokе like if I spit the commandments
Shots fired, now wherе the hell your man went?
And he's gangsta, right?
He belong in the dim wearin' tights, he picked the wrong night
I'm a Las Vegas fight don, king in the ring
Does my thing from fall to spring, that's all year
Put fear in a wannabe rapper turned actor
He wanna act tough, I hit him with the clapper
Death come after, see, I ain't playin' kid
He screamed, and I ain't just say he did
EPMD, I'm scared for us
'Cause someone might bite the dust before rush hour
The power I got will snap a neck
So I suggest y'all show respect, we on deck
Now put your hands in the air, keep 'em there
Run your jewels, run your jewels
Now put your hands in the air, keep 'em there
Run your jewels, now run your jewels, motherfucker
You heard what I said, man, we ain't playin'
Don't wait 'til it starts sprayin'
We set it off while the DJ playin'
Run your jewels, run your jewels, motherfucker
Cats walkin' past your crib, we walk in your house
Go in your mouth, chalkin' you out
With EMS respond units carryin' you out
With the slow IV feeds
Broken the fuck up, black eye with the nosebleeds
My dudes be like, "D, chill", I be like, "Fuck chill"
Cats complain about the game, pass the pill
EPMD's too real, y'all know
The only reason why y'all eatin' 'cause we paid the bill
How many times I gotta tell you that this shit shut down?
'Til Erick and Parrish return and hold the b-boys down
Step through the door hard-body and lick off a round
Uh-huh, see niggas listenin' now
Faces is racked like, wow
There goes E and P with the fish in the hat
Fall back, don't get hit with the gunpowder
Respect the gods, excuse me, I beg your par'
Can't hear you, we got it greened up, plus the beat's too hard
Now put your hands in the air, keep 'em there
Run your jewels, run your jewels
Now put your hands in the air, keep 'em there
Run your jewels, now run your jewels, motherfucker
You heard what I said, man, we ain't playin'
Don't wait 'til it starts sprayin'
We set it off while the DJ playin'
Run your jewels, run your jewels, motherfucker
I bring the heat quick
I do what killed Ramone in Beat Street
I get the club rockin' on some seasick shit
I ain't gotta tell you I'm hood, man, you can see I'm it
My rhyme hits, I don't preach 'bout cash
'Cause most of y'all know cash like E-ZPass
You came in talkin' 'bout you gon' beat me
Then you left out talkin' 'bout, "Just give me two more CDs"
Y'all young, so y'all need to be gangstas
While real G's wanna sit home and read the paper
Courtside view with the L.A. Lakers
But it's always some youngin' you gotta send to his maker
And I don't need the ratchet to reach your ass
I'm old school, I'll off you with a piece of glass
Run your jewels, you know who it be
K-R-S-E-P-M-D
Now put your hands in the air, keep 'em there
Run your jewels, run your jewels
Now put your hands in the air, keep 'em there
Run your jewels, now run your jewels, motherfucker
You heard what I said, man, we ain't playin'
Don't wait 'til it starts sprayin'
We set it off while the DJ playin'
Run your jewels, run your jewels, motherfucker