"Runnin' Shit"

Verse 1: {BLACK~MAGIK}

..Magik is runnin-shit, you fuckin-with, the one-with-clips..
..Quick to bust-a-lip, like 'sluts-with-dicks,' I'm 'fuckin sick'..
..Nobody's touchin-this, I run-with-kids, who'll cut-a-bitch..
..Won't hesitate, to let-the-gauge, go thru ya fuckin-clique..
..Nobody want-it-with, the fuckin-prick, that'll kill-rappers..
..Shit, I leave the Ricter scale like 'What in the hell-happend?'..
..Causing earth-quakes, make you herbs-brake, who want-it-with-B?..
..I'm like 'fat women with aids,' you don't wanna-be, fucking-with-me..
..I'm coming-with-heat, running-the streets, like fucking-police..
..Fuck a punch-line, I'll run up and straight punch-an-emcee..
..The man-with-missles, so stand-ya-distance, this the hand-I-hit-with..
..Leave ya mans-in-trenches, like "goddamn, this man-is-vicious"..
..I was born-to-reign, you whores-are-lame! Abort-the-game!..
..Blow you back-with, the mac-10, or let the mortar-spray..
..Bring war-and-pain, more-than-great, I'm a legend-to-some..
..From-the-streets, and I come-with-the-heat, that'll rep-where-I'm-from..

Hook:

..I'm in that crunk-mood, give 'em the one-two, what you gon-do?..
..When we on, ya front lawn, with a match and some gasoline..
..We gas-emcees, strapped-with-heat, that'll make you punks-move..
..Smoke you faggots-to-ashes, see how fast-you-bleed, when you clash-with-me..

Verse 2: {LIL DREW}

A rap addict……“runnin” dis damn game like a track meet/
Dope rhymes in my blood, and OP! my heart just attacked me/
Im “strapped” to da teeth, now who want beef?, dawg I make my heat felt/
U wanna fight back...but the only thing u should “strap” is ya seat belt/
Cause im comin quick, with a clenched fist, and a dustpan in my otha/
and Magik’ll bring the broom, so we can sweep u up from the rubble/
Leave caps all in ya back…wit more red dots then chicken pox/
Im like security at federal prison……”I got the whole thang on lock!”/
Check me B…this what I see…I see me…leavin a cap in tha cap a ya knee/
Cause wit a fifty foot ladder……………you couldn’t step up to me/
Ima virus…I spread through my spits on the mic/
And im ill to da length…my rhymes got more STD’s then a dike/
I send a dellyrious weariness that sends shivers down ya back/
Cause when I come on stage…im straight infectin tha track/
We’re like a flaming baseball bat…u can’t “handle my clique/
So mite as well just step down…cause we runnin dis shit/

Hook:

..I'm in that crunk-mood, give 'em the one-two, what you gon-do?..
..When we on, ya front lawn, with a match and some gasoline..
..We gas-emcees, strapped-with-heat, that'll make you punks-move..
..Smoke you faggots-to-ashes, see how fast-you-bleed, when you clash-with-me..


Verse 3: {MAGNIFICENT}

pencil gripped, ready to pistol whip, some simple bitch
puttin faggots, in a casket, over some little shit
lyrically cripple kids, dimples rip, when the missles spit
biblical scripts, what did you expect from a God
all these teams,think theyre linked, till i disconnect there squad
spread there brains, on the stage, so they can collect there thoughts
i'll fuckin wreck their cross, and leave whole teams slaughtered
so religious, when i kick it, im spittin holy water
My decible level when spittin, can beckon the devil
leave u dead, buried and shoveled wit irripressible treble
u dont wanna fight wit me i drop nine inside your ride quickly
im that kid, in the black whip, giving your wife hickies
hip hops in dire times, there's jus so many whack kids
sayin you'll eat, any emcee, sounds like a bunch of fag shit
so if you really want some drama go and get ya squadron of soldiers
cuz ill make you take ya fingers and touch em to the opposite shoulders

Hook:

..I'm in that crunk-mood, give 'em the one-two, what you gon-do?..
..When we on, ya front lawn, with a match and some gasoline..
..We gas-emcees, strapped-with-heat, that'll make you punks-move..
..Smoke you faggots-to-ashes, see how fast-you-bleed, when you clash-with-me..

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