| Everybody running wild, yeah
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| Tell me what to do
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| What the fuck is goin' on?
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| Well I know, well I know, well I know
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| So many baby mamas around we are all some motherfuckers
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| Surf’s Up but it ain’t on some motherfucker
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| Most kingpin rappers is also undercover
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| Sleeping with the enemy on some under covers
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| Tide rolled in, bread so thin
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| Gotta keep corn on me like Thanksgiving
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| Still smoking, like the barrel of young ones
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| With big guns that will face grown men
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| Got guts 'till they see their stomach lining
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| I’m not fishing for compliments but keep a line in
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| Seeing the world like Jack with an axe
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| Peeking through the door towards the end of The Shining
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| Uhh! |
| Robbing and rhyming is my drug
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| Not only the block but the microphone I hug
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| Tsunami flow, suckers act like they don’t know
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| But there will never be another MC like me 'till 5004
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| There will never be an MC like you 'till 5004? |
| (Yup)
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| I rap like none of these rappers on earth, I’m not your average Joe
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| Space age pimpin' first verse now they have to protect the ho
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| All the way winos, trips and players in front the liquor store
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| Altercations and drama, riding around with them Lamas
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| Growing up in the ghetto where kids sell dope to their mamas
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| Bullet shells echo, men dead in the alley
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| It took nine hours for the coroner to come and pick up the body
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| Everybody running wild, yeah
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| Tell me what to do
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| What the fuck is goin' on?
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| Well I know, well I know, well I know
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| Say what I’ve seen, night time dream
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| (Evidence) that my life is serene
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| But the world don’t turn off evil regimes
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| Men will earn, getting burned for cream
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| It’s the same dots behind clouds and raindrops
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| Suns explode with rays of stray shots
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| It’s like drive-by murder when it stays hot
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| They shot the ground and grazed the grey lots
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| Grey box, same two-three steppin'
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| Blue jeans, blue hat, I need a weapon
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| Who’s next to play the execution of a chump?
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| When the shit go down we’ll see who choose to jump
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| Hey, can feel my hairs rise from the tension
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| On gentrified drive, you can smell the intent
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| I think the streets on fire with the engine
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| As the world burns let me turn to my incense
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| A nigga can’t sleep, they doing housecalls
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| All in the streets people living like outlaws
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| Listen to the fault line, you can hear the ground talk
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| 'Till the clouds fall fear rains like drought’s off
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| Under the city lights, within shadows
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| Many men sling ground-stained Amaretto
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| Loud screams drowning out the whistle from the kettles
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| You can’t run from it, keep bringing you the ghetto
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| Everybody running wild, yeah
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| Tell me what to do
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| What the fuck is goin' on?
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| Well I know, well I know, well I know |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Running Wild , by - CunninLynguists. Song from the album Strange Journey Volume Two, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп