Run Lyrics – Bukshot
Singer: Bukshot
Title: Run
〈Chorus〉
Run, run, run
Run, run, run
Where the hell did these big old white boys come from?
I’m still in the land of the Louisville Slugger
Rumors haven’t changed, I’m a bad m#th*rf#ck*r (yeah)
I’m the one and only, you will never find another
Steppin’ through my city, rep it in my favorite color
I’m a battleship! I can sink your fleet in many ways
You might rattle sh#t! But you better not rattle my cage
You can’t fathom this! You can’t read my mind or beat the stage
I’m erratic and my work ethic is on another page
Focus on my enemy, hope you is a friеnd of me
If you rep the industry you must bе the enemy
You might slip away from me but not without a penalty
We got killers in Detroit, from Canada to Tennessee
Welcome to the underground! You don’t want no part in this this
Mobstyle gladiator, haters call me Spartacus
Time to bring the heat, my ammunition’s always bottomless
b#tch you better run if you don’t want your children bobbin’ this
〈Chorus〉
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Don’t slip, don’t fall, if you do, you’re getting done
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Where the hell did these big old white boys come from?
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Don’t slip, don’t fall, if you do, you’re getting done (Come on)
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Where the hell did these big old white boys come from?
〈Verse 2: Jelly Roll〉
Yeah
I’ve been distributing hay stack in my city hoe (b#tch)
And I ain’t talking ’bout my homie from them videos (what up)
They told me run, said “I’m already rolling” (yep)
I got that midget cheap, rest in peace Gary Coleman (get him)
You put me on your album, that’s a hell of a stamp (stamp)
And I’m coming with that thunder like Kevin Durant (swish)
From a place where them white boys is serving ’em O’s
Tatted up and got a mouth full of permanent gold (ha)
Yeah I’m riding by myself with this nine on my seat
Fresh tee with Lebron number nines on my feet (wooh)
A bad b#tch with me long hair with them open toes (sexy)
She wanna saddle up, I took her to the rodeo (weehoo)
The four-fifth got a nose like Pinocchio (come on)
I ain’t about to stop to my bank account, big as Oprah clothes (haha)
M.O.B. style music, f#cking with ya Buk (what up?)
And I’m like vaseline, I got something in the cut (get ’em)
〈Chorus〉
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Don’t slip, don’t fall, if you do, you’re getting done
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Where the hell did these big old white boys come from?
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Don’t slip, don’t fall, if you do, you’re getting done (Come on)
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Where the hell did these big old white boys come from?
〈Verse 3: Violent J〉
I be the Duke of the Wicked, polluted is my inner-mind
Feeding off of hater hate, it’s always dinner time
Look at me, six-hundred pounds enjoying a smorgasbord
‘Cause I’m a legendary great, Gorgeous George
Classic, heavy as a Chevy and tall
Walk by, knock all the f#cking sh#t off your walls
And I’m from Detroit City, murder’s as common as f#cking
Everybody, they do it all the time it ain’t nothing
They get inventive here and think of new ways to school ya
They’ll send your mother your head in a cooler (haha)
And no I ain’t just a rapper, I’m a neck-snapper (haha)
A born scrub but a fine ass-slapper
Juggalo dapper, a f#cking ho capper (*gunshots*)
A human sex trade kidnapper
You need to flee the spot because we give a f#ck not
〈Verse 4: Madchild〉
Aye, and don’t forget Madchild, J, I’m here to hold it down (yep)
Just like my brothers got me underground, kings of older sound with golden crowns (crowns)
Never slowing down the coldest flow and how?
Got fire in the belly of the beast so how we glowing now?
Don’t wait in lines, every club it’s a clear entrance
Hold them bars like I just got a ten-year sentence (damn)
You can tell I’m demented, who gives a flying f#ck (uhm)
Spitting flames, I’m applying pressure like a firetruck
Big white boys, but I ain’t talking riot talk (nope)
I’ll rock a show, hit the hotel, relax time (ugh)
Madchild, the Juggalette and our bags dime
You better run m#th*rf#ck*r we don’t back down (run)
My boys are looking out for me like I’m a trap house (kicked in)
We out here, ain’t nothing to pull a scrap out (boom)
Mobstyle, psychopaths and warriors, you’ll black out
〈Chorus〉
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Don’t slip, don’t fall, if you do, you’re getting done
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Where the hell did these big old white boys come from?
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Don’t slip, don’t fall, if you do, you’re getting done (Come on)
Run m#th*rf#ck*r, run m#th*rf#ck*r, run
Where the hell did these big old white boys come from?
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Lyrics Bukshot – Run
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