[Intro: Zack De La Rocha]
Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them
Fuck the slow mo
[Verse 1: Killer Mike (El-P)]
Fashion slave, you protestin' to get in a fuckin' look book
Everything I scribble's like an anarchist's cookbook
(Look good, posin' in the centerfold of Crook Book)
Black on black on black with the ski mask, that is my crook look
How you like my stylin' bruh? Ain't nobody smilin' bruh
'Bout to turn this mothafucka up like Riker's Island, bruh
Where my thuggers and my crippers and my blooders and my brothers?
When you niggas gon' unite and kill the police, mothafuckas?
Or take over a jail, give them COs hell
The burnin' of the sulfur, goddamn I love the smell
Now get to pillow torchin', where the fuck the warden?
And when you find him, we don't kill him, we just waterboard him
We killin' them for freedom 'cause they tortured us for boredom
And even if some good ones die, fuck it, the Lord'll sort 'em
[Verse 2: El-P (Killer Mike)]
We're out of order, your honor, you're out of order
This whole court is unimportant, you fuckers are walkin' corpses
I'm a flip wig synonym livin' within distortion
I'll bite into a cyanide molar before you whores win
I'm a New Yorkian, I'm fucked from the jump
I wear my Yankee so tilted I actually walk with a hunch
Look at Mikey, I think he likey, we are sinister sons
(And we the type to greet the preacher with a grin and a gun
Come on!)
Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them
Fuck the slow mo
[Verse 1: Killer Mike (El-P)]
Fashion slave, you protestin' to get in a fuckin' look book
Everything I scribble's like an anarchist's cookbook
(Look good, posin' in the centerfold of Crook Book)
Black on black on black with the ski mask, that is my crook look
How you like my stylin' bruh? Ain't nobody smilin' bruh
'Bout to turn this mothafucka up like Riker's Island, bruh
Where my thuggers and my crippers and my blooders and my brothers?
When you niggas gon' unite and kill the police, mothafuckas?
Or take over a jail, give them COs hell
The burnin' of the sulfur, goddamn I love the smell
Now get to pillow torchin', where the fuck the warden?
And when you find him, we don't kill him, we just waterboard him
We killin' them for freedom 'cause they tortured us for boredom
And even if some good ones die, fuck it, the Lord'll sort 'em
[Verse 2: El-P (Killer Mike)]
We're out of order, your honor, you're out of order
This whole court is unimportant, you fuckers are walkin' corpses
I'm a flip wig synonym livin' within distortion
I'll bite into a cyanide molar before you whores win
I'm a New Yorkian, I'm fucked from the jump
I wear my Yankee so tilted I actually walk with a hunch
Look at Mikey, I think he likey, we are sinister sons
(And we the type to greet the preacher with a grin and a gun
Come on!)
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