Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song River Don't Runnn, artist - Nelly. Date of issue: 21.11.2005
Song language: English
River Don't Runnn |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, right down |
| Right down, light on, right down |
| They say, walk down the river |
| 'Cause the river don’t run |
| Same thing makes you laugh, makes you cry |
| That’s why what goes around comes around, my son |
| They say, walk down the river |
| 'Cause the river don’t run |
| Same thing makes you laugh, makes you cry, come on |
| Plus I got the rocks, them yellow diamonds and that bling |
| Come on, yeah, yeah, yeah |
| And, I’ve got two twin Cutlass’s interior gatored |
| I call them Now and Later’s 'cause they’re candy flavoured |
| You see, I drive one now and drive the other one later |
| Shit, it’s the new Fresh Prince and all I’m missing is Jada |
| I’ve got a hard drive, all I’m missing is data |
| Please give my number to your sister, I’ve been missing a dater |
| I hate to hate a hater, in fact I hate to hate |
| Hating is hating, you should never hate, congratulate |
| Look here, my attitude is sensed that you may never know my mind |
| I know just what I’m thinking if I don’t want you inside |
| Yeah, inside my mental, I know you meant well |
| I’m Out Of Time and out of Training Days like Denzel |
| Never the gangster type, more like a hustler, man |
| I fuck them ones up out them Playboy books and Hustler, man |
| Honeys and Black Tails, the King magazines |
| The Maxim or the Eye Candy, Jet Beauty Queens |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
| I’m a spit it 'til I really can’t spit it no more |
| Nothing’s changed, cell phone’s still three-one-four |
| No, the Derrty ain’t moved to near East, West coast |
| I’m a Midwest swinger 'cause they love me the most |
| Some like me humble, others like me to boast |
| Please, my whole life is alphabets and numbers |
| I take a G4, land to that H2 Hummer |
| Leave at seven-forty-five in LA for the summer |
| I’ve got the worldwide sale to check the e-mail |
| Plus, four-oh-one K plan in A-T-L |
| Got eight females, I see them all from eight to twelve |
| The only player who can ball without his A.C.L |
| Who may not be original but still a don-dada |
| I’m gon' take this beat and flip it, I’m gon' make it hotter |
| You go ahead and take your plane and I’m gon' take the chopper |
| I’m tired of niggers' fronting like they’re top gun shotters' (hey) |
| Not come running over, Jah-Jah shine his light |
| Blessed is the day, sacred is the night |
| Wrong wishers beware now that I am here |
| Hey, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lord |
| Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy Lord |
| Shoot, they thought a Derrty wouldn’t make it this far |
| Now I’m supporting my family, they liking who I are |
| Schoolboy’s a hard worker, they consider him a star |
| I guess that’s why they look at us as if we’re from Mars |
| Singin-a-ling, I deal with bars like weight trainers |
| Hustling’s got me bigger like weight gainers |
| Always remain a Saint Louis entertainer |
| My women love me later, how could a hater blame her |
| Shoot, I’m just that dude that kicks bars for a living |
| Get rich and trick, collect cars for a living |
| Houses on hills, with great lakes in the back |
| Bowling alleys in basements, beds bigger than Shaq’s |
| Damn, look at the leather in that old school 'Llac |
| They be doo-doo green, I wonder who would do that |
| The original rude dude, considered too cool |
| Probably know me from touching your booty at school |