
Chase Me Danger Mouse (Ft. Big Boi & Run The Jewels)
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Chase Me" от Danger Mouse (Ft. Big Boi & Run The Jewels). Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

[Intro]
Here's what we know:
Two men and a woman came into the bank branch
Clad in black business clothing
Trench coats, bandannas, and sunglasses
They pulled guns out and ordered everybody to the floor
And then cleaned out the registers
And hear this—they even swiped jewelry from some of the customers
[Verse 1: El-P]
Aye, woo! Woo!
Run, Run, Run The Jewels
Gangster like you wake up in Dickies and load the clippy
The rate of our ascension makes statisticians feel sickly
Accountants, they get snippy, they never counted so quickly
Got 'em up sniffin' yak up off an abacus for a living
Crime authors, autobiographically bastards
Pain passin’, put a pain in your brain batter
Style droppin' the drums and stun all gawkers
Small talkers get launched on, clobbered and tossed off
Knock 'em on just to get rocks off
Put a pause on all of that soft talk, chop chop
Tick tock, you got until the hands on the clock stop
I'm bagging a bag, then I'm backing out, better back off
[Hook: El-P]
That's why I'm outta here, baby
Before these clowns put me down in the ground, baby
I'm running reds 'til I'm out of this town, baby
You want your money back? Chase me
Here's what we know:
Two men and a woman came into the bank branch
Clad in black business clothing
Trench coats, bandannas, and sunglasses
They pulled guns out and ordered everybody to the floor
And then cleaned out the registers
And hear this—they even swiped jewelry from some of the customers
[Verse 1: El-P]
Aye, woo! Woo!
Run, Run, Run The Jewels
Gangster like you wake up in Dickies and load the clippy
The rate of our ascension makes statisticians feel sickly
Accountants, they get snippy, they never counted so quickly
Got 'em up sniffin' yak up off an abacus for a living
Crime authors, autobiographically bastards
Pain passin’, put a pain in your brain batter
Style droppin' the drums and stun all gawkers
Small talkers get launched on, clobbered and tossed off
Knock 'em on just to get rocks off
Put a pause on all of that soft talk, chop chop
Tick tock, you got until the hands on the clock stop
I'm bagging a bag, then I'm backing out, better back off
[Hook: El-P]
That's why I'm outta here, baby
Before these clowns put me down in the ground, baby
I'm running reds 'til I'm out of this town, baby
You want your money back? Chase me
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