Notorious B.I.G. - Runnin' Lyrics
* apparently, uncensored versions exist, but my copy of oms is censoredOne time, one time nigga one time! (where? )Runnin from the police (yeah I know what you mean)No matter what I do, they got a niggaStill runnin from the police(put them mother*****in nikes on tight and get ghost yall)Verse one: dramacydalI aint got nuttin on my mind, but gettin in some troubleLickin shots to they block leavin bloody blood puddlesFor some ridah delight, now we in a gunfightI can shoot the gauge pebbles at the devils or die tonightIts on me, but if I die bury me a mother*****in gA open casket on them bastards so they all remember meWith my vest on my chest, my tools and my pieceThug life mother*****er gotta me runnin from the *police*Nigga, you know thats trueCatch a nigga like k-dog, chillin wit a crewEvery damn day parlay with my glass of reThe o.j. and its all okTo that *****in fake *i shot*, got to play the manRan me down the block with my glass in my handDamn, I hope it dont spillNigga chill, shit is real ***** back my steelStill runnin from the *police* I gets no sleepI got you peepin in my window while Im smokin indoBut I aint no mother*****in track star, *trator* got a jeepLike big mouth, runnin through mother*****ers backyardsSo i, grabs my piece before I fleeAnd instead of me runnin, these *****es is runnin from meLick shots hits spots off on my pieceCause a nigga like big mouth is through runnin from the *police*Interlude: don gargon ? ? (some ragga toaster, this is a very rough guess)I bust off! what about the time they pull me from the broncoLay, they tried to ***** me, but them cant gun storeWhen a batty bwoy do it from the mobAhh, pull up your pants then you screw an left squadLook around, look around, punk policeWhile gwan man doesnt a come but a bad boy testLook around, look around, punk policeMe hafta blast back, cause de blast is bestVerse two: stretch, notorious b.i.g.Yo I was, schemin and fiendin for loots and took the crooked routeTo, ghetto fame I felt the pains and now I run the gameThe insane brain, cold gettin fly like a planeOn them suckers with my nigga biggie smalls causin ruckusCheck it, I grew up a *****in screwupGot introduced to the game, got a ounce and *****in blew upChoppin rocks overnightThe nigga biggie smalls tryin ta turn into the black frank whiteAnd we got the workers choppin rock, benz by the flockAnd we gettin it, the dirty *pigs* jealous so they sweatin itIm lettin off smoke, hope they dont play me for no jokeAnd provoke the homicide, so just let the drama slideWe keepin it real, ***** how you feel, biggie pass the steelLets serve these mother*****ers slugs as a *****in mealWe had to grow dreads to change our description*tupac* on the milk box missinShow they toes you know they got stepped onA fist full of bullets a chest full of teflonRun from the *police* picture that, nigga Im too fatI ***** around and catch a asthma attack (heavy breathing)Thats why I bust back, it dont phase meWhen he drop, take his glock, and Im swayzeSummer break, my escape, sold the glock, bought some weightLaid back, I got some money to make, mother*****erInterlude: don gargon ? ? (again this is a very rough guess)Now its war, me tryin to sell, runnin from the punk po-liceThey try to ***** me, but them cant gun storeWhat about they come to hold up me northPulled up the park, I left school and left buckLook around, look around, punk policeWas about to blast with ya gun but you cant stop meLook around, look around, punk policeMe haf to blast back, cause blast back bestVerse three: 2pacThey got me runnin from the *four-five*Duckin and dodgin in my survivalThe benzo and I let off with my *nine milli*Im movin swifter than the next nigga, no time for sexCause in my mind all I wonder is whos nextNigga, my homey slipped and now he pays the priceHe did a driveby, sixteen, now hes doin triple lifeTell me is it me or my upbringinI split that dove shitNigga mother***** singin, I hope you got your timberlandsOn tight, cause I aint givin upId rather duck these mother*****ers all nightIm runnin through the projects, beyotchTheyll never catch meCause Im locd and trigger happy on the, sneotchDont say you never heard of me, til they murder me, Im a legendDo thug niggas go to heaven?Im rollin with the thorough headsWe gettin ghost on them hoes and yoI got no love for the *mother*****ers* Im runnin from the policeOutro: don gargon ? ? to fade
