| Jean- he’s back again for the first day
|
| we gonna do this one a little different. |
| tryna test the waters
|
| (where you gonna run)
|
| Jean- not far
|
| (where you gonna run)
|
| Jean- where you gonna go I write underground climb up, this a new line up niggaz fight your way through
|
| if you’re not ready to lose may I suggest that you let us the fuck through
|
| everybody clap your hands now, tear the walls down
|
| dance like Rudy Huxtable scoring a touchdown, you know
|
| hands in the air, knees in, knees out
|
| drop a little symbol on them this time, no doubt, let’s go I write ten years deep and tenure’s still deep
|
| my bad I’m sorry I don’t like when phrases repeat
|
| I meant for the decades almost passed and spaceball was the least
|
| and I’m struggling still hustle to eat
|
| I must be built with Adam and Eve skin
|
| while y’all motherfuckers where you flushed in with your heart poking through on your arm stupid
|
| drop more bombs than on Saddam’s house unarmed
|
| my mouth’s a weapon I shout like Armguard steppin'
|
| didn’t need to get loud, no disrepect
|
| but you know the Jean is threat to your checks
|
| niggas heart burning no prowl though sec to stop the attack
|
| ya neck back’s gettin hot on every drop on the track
|
| and now I finally got some heat is good, let it be known
|
| I’ll still be here after all this shit is done said and gone
|
| can’t keep running the same formula, I’m imploring ya to quit fucking the game up, before it fucks all of ya up
|
| where you gonna run
|
| where you gonna run
|
| where you gonna ruuuuuun
|
| where you gonna ruuuuuun
|
| where you gonna hide
|
| where you gonna ruuuuuun
|
| where you gonna ruuuuuun
|
| (Kweli)
|
| yeah come on, yeah come on watch these niggas start to run soon as I hit the track
|
| what get the sack, eyes low like Friskin’cat
|
| my flow get cap throw they gun like official Nas
|
| I’m draftin you niggas hard quick fast like tiptonat
|
| diamond cut lyrics so sharp the spit split the glass
|
| your mouth writing a check that you ask and quick to cash
|
| screaming how you quick to shoot don’t even know the screenplay
|
| niggas rappin black and white and rappers shakin’Jean Grae
|
| sick of niggas licking boots I pick and choose my battles when
|
| I spit the truth it’s hot
|
| let the pride and move the cattle
|
| y’all don’t really want no beef, that’s too real you want veal
|
| you baby sheep hanging in the air and tend to raffle me Me? |
| I don’t like the taste this shit’s gamey
|
| like magazines telling lies and Star Wars like Dick Chaney
|
| it sucks though they losing they flavor like Now and Laters
|
| when I bust them niggas run for the hills like Al Queda
|
| she lacks delivery, really, nigga I pack rap symmetry and send it to ya dorm
|
| why y’all iggin’me for sure
|
| Jean is synonymous to chivalry
|
| open doors but I step through first
|
| test the waters and I pee in them got no network
|
| but now everyone’s a rapper and everyone’ll shoot you dead
|
| only led I strapped with a razor sharp pencil that could
|
| write but it could stab you rapid
|
| it’s all ass backwards, you’re all mall performers, actors
|
| what tho?, come on let’s race to where the cash is get mauled like Roy the alter boy
|
| I’ll jet through you like a Jet through flight, I’m unemployed
|
| you still cared to touch me, I gotta keeps the rap level
|
| you face screwed ugly
|
| I’m chasing all you club bunnies
|
| and racing you tackle you down
|
| take your money with your chest on the ground
|
| I know it’s foul, what you gonna do now
|
| (I think it’s time you gave it up!) |