D12 — Run

[Intro] Swifty McVay: Got him, in the scope Person 2: Man hit this nigga man Swifty McVay: Damn nigga. Stand still motherfucker Person 2: Man go ahead hit that nigga, come on we gotta get the fuck on Swifty McVay: The leaves in the way Person 2: What? Swifty McVay: Shut up nigga I got this Person 2: Hit that nigga Swifty McVay: I'm 'bout to hit him. I got him *Gun cocks* *Bang* Run... [Verse 1: Swifty McVay] Duct tape her, put the video tape and rape her And fuck favors, I'm a criminal with a major Disruptive membrane that's never letting go of the beef I'm no stranger, streets paid with blood stains I strangler her loose, wrangle a jump suit Machete and leather boots I'm severing whatever nigga sold you crack And told you to expose your scrotum to these whores and you click-clack, remember that [?] the pain, have you niggas ducking like the hunchback of Notre-Dame Fuckers ain't gon' say a thing Huggin a burner, you acting like you trying to murder Like a marine that's never been overseas I heard the niggas like you I can turn your city against any nigga willing to send me an invite Whoever double-cross me Then already walked across my first line So its dandelions and curse time [Hook] Run It’s a nigga running behind you, you better hopin' for he don't find you, you know you better Run Hearing them bullets whistlin' by you You see the red dots are around you, you know you better Run Those niggas really trying to kill you, you better hopin' for he won't kill you, you know you better Run [Verse 2: Kuniva] Black gloves, black hat, black hoodie,black gat Flashlight attached to [?] where the clap at Nigga, get your [?] on, my [?] on Bullets leave the group, let 'em get a solo *gunshot* [?], head on the council, pick the lock, backdoor, dead the whole household You want murder? Take a flight out here (c'mon) When the hammer sparks, you gon' get a bright idea (c'mon) You better *gunshot* the other way, before I (Run) to the car When you (Run) start playin', you don't (Run) to Bizarre (Yeah) I leave a nigga slomp, a pistol grip will make your adrenaline pump (shit) I blow your clothes backwards, criss-cross your ass Make your whole body jump (jump) (jump) This is gangsta shit like a John Gotti dump People that's been shot before, they keep tellin' you that shit ain't fun (fun) (fun) If you get the chance, yo you better [Hook] Run It’s a nigga running behind you, you better hopin' for he don't find you, you know you better Run Hearing them bullets whistlin' by you You see the red dots are around you, you know you better Run Those niggas really trying to kill you, you better hopin' for he won't kill you, you know you better Run