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letra de run ya pockets - diabolic

[verse 1:]

yo as a kid on the school bus i made a few bucks
stickin’ my cl-ssmates with a sharpened tooth brush
then i grew up, saw your watch was nice
got lots of ice, then you on the wrong block tonight
no cops in sight, and i can aim a glock precise
i’d just rather rob your wife with a pocket knife
on the block late, so if you got papes or cop weight
clearly i’mma stick you like scotch tape
i’m upstate now ?? on a greyhound
with eight pounds of dro that i stole on the way down
i’m quick to hi-jack your best five tracks
base line, kick snare, sampling high hat
the plot thickens when you’re 23 shoplifting
the clock’s ticking and those last six shots kick in
in a sh-t box whipping, ’till i see a nice range
’cause i swipe you from the right lane soon as the light change

chorus:

run ya pockets, hand over your cash
make it fast or i’mma have to whoop your -ss
run ya pockets, when i’m on your block
i’mma take what you got whether you like it or not
run ya pockets, you a rapper with dough
i’mma catch you after your show, grab it and go
run ya pockets, i got a daughter to feed
so best believe what you got is more than i need

[verse 2:]

yo it’s lightning, i’m the kid at the bar you might see
stealing tips to buy long island ice-tea
broke and sheisty, sn-tching your rolex
while you alone on your way back from the co-check <--(?) don't have any dough left, that's the bottom line so if i see cats ballin' i'm fast to rob them blind for a pound of swag, sixteen ounces bag blindfolded, wrist tied, bound and gagged i'm ruthless, i never show cats mercy so run your dough stacks in that throwback jersey i throw slaps early but i'm sprayin' next time sn-tchin' your advance, the day you get signed i ain't toured yet, so my life is pure stress that's why i left you bleeding all over your valore sweats <--(?) at your door step and i don't even know you but i'm sn-tchin' your dough to re-invest it in my own crew [chorus] [verse 3:] yo submerged in debt, with dough earns respect i stuck my first connect, sold half, burned the rest i'll take the dough you make, while you holdin' weight too this way i can flip p's like a lower case q no one hates you, but we know your address i'm the one who sn-tched the dough that you owe your connects every known rapper, give me your dough after the show or i'll go have the car in a tow tag, you'll get b-tch slapped 'till the bones fracture and ribs crack pay an a&r to know where the ceo lives at kidnap an exec, gun to his naval runnin' the label's cash past under the table while the head in charge of artists and record squads gettin' scarred, ran for his dough and credit cards celebs and stars, your funds are profit don't get dumb and pop sh-t, c'mon run ya pockets [chorus]

- diabolic

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