Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Run For It, artist - Juvenile.
Date of issue: 02.11.1998
Song language: English
Run For It |
I be comin' up wit da Glock toy |
You can stop boy |
You ain’t heard I’m off tha block boy |
Chipp-pedy chop boy |
Off in ya cut is where I’m layin' |
Ready fo' sprayin' |
Soon as I see yo face and hand |
I ain’t wit dat playin' |
My daddy showed me how to play it in a situation |
My daddy tol' me I ain’t shit wit outta occupation |
So I played the game |
Bust yo head if you said my name |
I had some of deez niggas scared I came |
I kno' some niggas out tha 'Nolia that’ll ride fo' me |
I kno' some niggas hollin' soldier that a die fo' me |
T.C., L.T., Magnolia and six |
Oh you want some of dat fire dope you can score in da bricks |
You disrespectin' my mind cuz you keep comin' short |
I might hitcha wit dat iron cuz you need ta be taught |
You keep showing yo teeth cuz you thank its a joke |
You mus thank deez bullets ain’t real and you ain’t gon' git smoke |
Now if ya at dat second line and dem boyz gotta gun |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
And if ya too deep in some beef and dem boyz bout ta come |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
If ya ain’t gotta strap but cho enemy got one |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
And if you git into it wit a Cash Money Brotha |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
I be in all black sometimes |
Sometimes I be jumpin' out trees in camouflage |
Me and Juvenile got two Ks we bout to ride |
Dem boyz playin' wit da U.P.T. |
well dey gots to die |
Man it’s that deep |
It’s a tragedy |
That you can test me |
Heard I run in houses don’t put it past me |
Hell look boy you betta tell deez niggas |
Fo' I mask up and try ta kill deez niggas |
You don’t want my stress trouble |
I be back in two hummers and five lex-bubbles (what!) |
My big brother Juvie |
Tol' me not to eva letta nigga screw me |
Tol' me if I eva did he would do me |
Gave me two guns and sent me round dey shootin' |
And then they start runnin' |
Hardest niggas on tha block started actin like a woman |
Tha four foot stranger in ya area bustin' |
Load it up and slide it in |
Cock it back pop it out we ridin' |
Look, look I’ll run in a busta spot |
I’ll sit on a busta porch |
I’ll sleep on a busta block |
Apply five and then let go |
Bang lil cowards keep playin', get hurt |
Motha-flirk see I’ont' curse |
But’ll wet up yo shirt |
Look all my enemy’s see me comin' |
All my enemy’s peeeeeuuungghhh be runnin' |
Now if ya at dat second line and dem boyz gotta gun |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
And if ya too deep in some beef and dem boyz bout ta come |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
If ya ain’t gotta strap but cho enemy got one |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
And if you git into it wit a Cash Money Brotha |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
You thank I’m playin’a somthin' lil whodie I ain’t trippin' |
Tha beef started last week and dem niggas still be hittin' |
Two children got killed and a ol' lady got hit |
Look I’m bout ta git tha fuck cause I ain' got no time fo' dis shit |
Now you can be comin' through |
And runnin' to a gun if you feel |
That they ain’t gon' do you shit cause ya real |
I’ont' wanna be witcha when its hapnin' either |
I probably be somewhere ducked off takin' a nap wit my people |
I’d rather see it on TV than see it in person |
Having my fucking' head hurtin' |
When dem thirties be burstin' |
Bet if yo beef see ya he ain’t gon' wait fo' ya dog |
Our all gon' try to rearrange ya face fo' ya dog |
Second line and round dem clubs ain’t no place fo ya dog |
Dem same niggas you come up wit playa-hatin' ya dog |
I see em comin' wit choppers and I know they gon' bust |
Lil Wayne hol' up |
We kitin' out sho' nuff' |
Now if ya at dat second line and dem boyz gotta gun |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
And if ya too deep in some beef and dem boyz bout ta come |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
If ya ain’t gotta strap but cho enemy got one |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
And if you git into it wit a Cash Money Brotha |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
Now if ya at dat second line and dem boyz gotta gun |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
And if ya too deep in some beef and dem boyz bout ta come |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
If ya ain’t gotta strap but cho enemy got one |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
And if you git into it wit a Cash Money Brotha |
You betta run for it, run for it, run |
Run for it |
Ya betta run for it, run for it |
Ya betta run for it, run for it |
Go git cha gun for it |
Ya betta run for it, run for it, run |
Run for it, run for it, run, run for it |
Run for it, run, run for it, run for it, run |
Get cha gun for it, gun for it, gun |
Get cha gun for it gun for it |