Текст песни (слова) Run the Jewels feat. DJ Q-Bert - Pew Pew Pew

Pew Pew Pew

[Killer Mike:]
 I'm a rider and provider and I don't tolerate ho shit
 I Bun B out on emcees meaning I obliterate yo' shit
 Man, every time I try to like a rapper they turn and do ho shit
 Make me ski mask on they a-a-ass, run they jewels and mo shit

[El-P:]
 You looking at the guy who the guy that you think that I got my style from got his own style from ('sup?)
 I came with a sly wink and a shit grin with a pimp limp and a foul tongue
 I'm a Brooklyn son, set adrift in a chemtrail sky
 Bad guys knock when the doors are locked, I got no shots left, better prep for God
 Not long, He'll be talkin the same shit, I am just impossible
 Got a right to be hostile, motherfucker life is a coffin, layin' down in it ain’t awesome
 Every single moment you spend in the dirt is a worse time than the last moment, own it
 We all know you don't know shit (no shit!)
 Me and Mike will straight write your obit

[Killer Mike:]
 And the obit goes like this: "Here lies a punk bitch, real fuck boy type
 Who never want shit, 'bout as soft as his momma's own tit"
 And sensitive as his old lady's clit, real bust-out bitch
 She fuck my clique, obscene, absurd with the words
 I cleaned up curbs with the blood and the bones of you nerds
 I kill with the mic and murder with words
 I'm known on the corners where murders occur, I cruise in the verse where murderers lurk
 When god in the building, who they gonna hurt

[El-P:]
 Not a butterfly, bunny, bee, bird bein' hurt
 Got a third-rock-from-the-sun claim for the turf
 Never learned how to love, gimme brain then it burnt
 Yeah that hurts, but at worst it will already start
 With a curse in the heart that'll hurt til it's worse

[Killer Mike:]
 Bttt Stick, Bttt Stick!
 Let that four-fifth turn and twist em
 If they all got the mark we miss em
 I pray death come quick and kiss em
 If he need help I assist him
 Follow? All of my tips is hollow
 I could kill your ass today but right now I’m playin' Grand Theft Auto
 Brain check
 I’m just come through your hood, and just shoot your ass tomorrow
 Brain dead
 Scattered over the hood of my old lady’s brand new auto
 Man, knew I should have kept it G and drove my Monte Carlo
 It got like this, it shake in pieces, I shoot your ass again tomorrow
 Bang!

[El-P:]
 Ok, I’m an asshole, kiss me (good luck!)
 Break a leg in a bear trap, skippy
 Wasn’t in class when the lunch bell rang
 Due to Colt 45 plus smoke got shitty
 Mike already a help assist with me
 Tag team of the goddamn century
 I never asked for shit, it ain’t in me
 You go to work now, but the style haunts history
 No doubt I’m a dick, fuck with me
 Liberty bell cracked, the cops aren’t kidding
 The rabbit in the hat is all deaf now, ain't it?
 Came for the freedom, stayed for the prison
 Came for the women, stayed for the money
 Presidents are better worth dead to feed tummies
 Came for the brains, stayed for the fucking
 The money’s by the side of the bed, it ain’t nothin'

 (Q-Bert!)

[Scratches by DJ Q-Bert]