Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wanted (On The Run), artist - Beanie Sigel. Date of issue: 28.03.2005
Song language: English
Wanted (On The Run) |
| Wanted, 100 miles and runnin' |
| Through the rain and the sunnin, when them feed folks comin |
| Keep your head up youngin', gotta keep ya heads up youngin' |
| The streets’ll give your head up youngin' |
| Listen, flip your con 'tacs, stay focused like contacts |
| Your head’s open for a contract |
| Can’t go where mom at, the last place you wanna bring the dram at |
| The first place they gonna track I promise |
| Can’t relax, but remain the calmest |
| Couple rules that your play by, stay by, stay live |
| You keep your boots on your laces tied |
| And only troop on the late night if you play right, you stay right, right |
| You never play the day light, jakes get on your tail |
| Never let them see the break lights |
| Catch me if you can when I’m dippin from the cops |
| Mr. Gingerbread never falling victim of the fox |
| Chorus: Wanted: Dead or Alive (2x) |
| (Beanie Sigel) |
| Wanted, but you can’t stop runnin' |
| With a price on your head, be prepared to gunnin' |
| Don’t be scared like the Red Coats comin' nigga |
| Stay underground and keep runnin' like Tugman |
| You can’t sleep, not a peep, no slumber |
| Man I sleeped about a 100 hours rest this summer |
| No stress when your dealin' with the running |
| Waking up in cold sweats, pissed scared of the rumblin' |
| Fuck it, just prepare for the trouble |
| Don’t be shit scared nigga with your head undercovers |
| This not a broad threat, I got something for 'em |
| On the steps with two tecs, this is not a warnin' |
| Nigga they close like camera flash |
| When the hammer blast, put on your State Prop camouflage |
| Crack the box or the avalanche, put on your Montana mask |
| Get to clappin' like it’s Pakistan |
| What every strap, cause an accident |
| Make a traffic jam, dodge all the traps you can, keep runnin' |
| Chorus: Wanted: Dead or Alive (2x) |
| (Cam'Ron) |
| All you got to say is hide me, I ride free |
| I be, the one to change your birth, S.S., or ID (I got all that) |
| Ain’t no more hangin' with the Y.G. |
| State Prop |
| No Roc, private dock, incase you need an IV |
| No more Bent', that’s Accord money, 420 |
| Schemes can’t afford money, money yous award money |
| Whether 90 or the first degree, any murder in the first degree |
| Well be the third degree, and they looking for the perjury |
| If you ain’t merk the g, perfectly, you’ll be in surgery |
| Take the seed out the nursery, nurse him at the precinct |
| Give 'em desert, that ain’t where he deserve to be |
| And I went through this personally, certainly |
| 3−2 for burglary, now it was referred to me |
| So they play us in no way, know way |
| Blaze up the roadways, A.C. and O. J |
| Read the paper, eggs and OJ |
| Call CD head of the O’Jays |
| That’s a gipsy caps, risky all the chips we had |
| 45 flee-flicker, we niggas, hit the gas |
| When the operation go stale, ain’t no jail |
| I did my whole album on bail (That's the truth) |
| I got you mac mittens, I send them a black ribbon |
| Attached to Mac spitten, I can’t go back prison |
| Chorus: Wanted: Dead or Alive (2x) |