| Hardcore
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| Everybody on the floor, everybody on the floor
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| PMD, Erick Sermon
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| You what it is, listen to my man
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| Run your jewelry
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| Hands up
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| Yes, Peace to Just Ice
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| Be scared
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| Bronx
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| Yo, the real dynamic duo, and I «e
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| G boys, I bring it back to a dooky rope, dope
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| I sport like I if I spit the commandments
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| So inspired, now who the hell your man wit?
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| And he’s gangsta right?
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| He belong in a dimwit type
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| You picked the wrong night
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| I’mma Las Vegas fight Don King in the ring
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| Does my thing from father spring, that’s all year
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| I can feel in a wannabe rapper turned actor
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| He wanna act tough it hit him with the clapper
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| Def-con actor, see I ain’t playing kid
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| He screamed and I’mma just saying he did
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| EPMD I’m scared for us
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| Cause someone might bite the dust
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| Before rush hour
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| The power I got is snappin necks
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| So I suggest ya show respect
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| We own that
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| Now put your hand in the air
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| Keep 'em there
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| Run your jewels, run it
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| Run your jewels, run it
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| Run your jewels, motherfucker
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| You heard what we said man, we ain’t playin
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| Don’t wait till it starts sprayin
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| We set it of while the DJ playin
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| Run your jewels, run it
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| Run your jewels, motherfucker
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| Cats walking past your crib, walk in your house
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| Go in your mouth, talkin you out
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| But EMS we spying we carryin you out
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| With the slow IV fee
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| Woken the fuck up, back eye with the nose bleed
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| My dudes be like dude chill
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| I be like fuck chill
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| Cats complainin bout the game, pass the pill
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| EPMD is too real, y’all know
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| The only reason why you eatin, cause we payed the bill
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| How many times I got to tell you the shit shut down
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| 'til Erick and Parrish return and hold the B-Boys down
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| Step through the door, hot body and lick off the ground
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| Uhu, I see niggas listening now
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| Faces is wrecked like wild
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| There goes EMP with the fisherman hat
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| Four back, get hit with the gun pow
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| Respect the gods, excuse me, I beg your pa
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| Can’t hear you, you got to grade up, cause the beats too hard
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| Now put your hand in the air
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| Keep 'em there
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| Run your jewels, run it
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| Run your jewels, run it
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| Run your jewels, motherfucker
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| I bring the heat quick
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| I do it, kill Ramone in Beat Street
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| I get the club rockin on some seasick shit
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| I ain’t gotta tell you I’m hood man, you can see I’m it
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| My rhyme hits, I don’t preach 'bout cash
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| Cause most of yall know cash like E-Zpass
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| You came in talkin bout you gon beat me
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| Then you left out talkin bout «just give me two more CDs»
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| You’re young so you need to be gangsters
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| While real G’s wanna sit home and read the paper
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| Courtside view with the LA Lakers
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| But its always some youngin you got to send to his maker
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| And I don’t need the ratchet to reach your ass
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| I’m old school I off you with a piece of glass
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| Run your jewels, you know who it be, KRS-EPMD
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| Now put your hand in the air
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| Keep 'em there
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| Run your jewels, run it
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| Run your jewels, run it
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| Run your jewels, motherfucker |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Run It, artist - EPMD. Album song Erick Sermon History, Vol. 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп