- Lyrics
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- Singer Intro
Peanut Butter Wolf( Chris Manak )
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Run the Line
Lyricist:Keida Brewer, Chris Manak
Yo I tell you niggas what You better stay home and lay your ass in the cut I'm goin' for heads, lay you for dead, foldin' emcees like bedspread And you ain't had this much milk since you was breastfed
Galleons on courts for sports, I bust bubbles on the double Destroyin' these fools who wanna give me trouble Ball with stuffle, six feet, women be lovin' it Brothers be thinkin o' stickin' but I be shovin' it
Ready, unload with fat tracks from lootkids Doin' my thang since 16 in '86 Hey yo, sayin' that the West ain't it Nigga, I'll smack you in your mouth for that shit
Let me show you what I claim, I'm doin' my thang But everybody out in Cali don't gangbang You better open up them mic's and get out my face Give me some space, better break out them old Nikes
You better run for the crib 'cause run in your jigs I'll send you home with a broke back and cracked whig Microphone's in control, so ready explode Motherfuckers need to punch up the flexcode
Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line
Heaven forbid, I rip kids, get they face blown Bring 'em in packs, and I could rip 'em by the caseload Ready explode on contact for that contract Flash these lyrics and ready for mic-combat
Who wanna step to get a rep playin' double jet Me and my man be on these tracks at the inner sect Mass confuse, hit your fellas off with bad news Tell 'em you tried but I just blew you out your damn shoes
Here's this mic, you can praise it if you need to Should've been there when your brother really needed you It's too late, had to blast off like 38's Food for thought but don't be eatin' of no dirty plates
I keep it clean and always on the uppernut Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Nigga, you soft and your rhymes need the toughin'-up No gun chatter on the platter 'cause it doesn't matter Me and the Wolf collaborate just to make it fatter
You better scatter like the roaches with the lights on I tell these niggas don't you bother turn them mics on Goin' deep like quarterbacks on they long throw And Time Waits For No Man label Stones Throw
The LP, in '97 you'll be seein' me Gradual shots to your nut got you seein' three I'm runnin' rhymes while the clock is steady runnin' time Crab emcees get in your block to start run in lines
Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line
Comin' in thirst, brothers shouldn't say another word Kickin' your rhymes but they was verses already heard Give me respect, it be the Ras with the triple threat Smash eject, 'cause already know what's comin' next
So I predict that all these brothers goin' to be ridin' dicks Break out the axe because it's time that you get 86 Playin' these scrubs in nightclubs like they legendary I'm first class and everybody else is secondary
But don't you worry, all these brothers got your vision blurry Ready to fix your cateracts with the fattest tracks Keep it intact with screws, roll with tight tools And now you missin' and your face is on tonight's news
So pay your dues, don't nobody make it overnight You heard the singleand you thought that it was overwrite No, 'cause I can do it to you every time Me and Peanut Butter Wolf gotta run 'em lines
Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line Run the line
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