Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Killer Mike
Vocals
EL-P
Vocals
Michael Winslow
Vocal Effects
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jaime Meline
Songwriter
Michael Render
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Wilder Zoby
Co-Producer
joey raia
Mixing Engineer
EL-P
Producer
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer
Little Shalimar
Producer
Bradley Post
Recording Engineer
Leon Kelly
Recording Engineer
Nicolas Vernhes
Recording Engineer
Nocando
Recording Engineer
Simen Solvang
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
Oh my
Oh my
Fuck the law, they can eat my dick, that's word to Pimp
Hold up (Oh my)
(You are now listening to Run the Jewels 2)
Fuck the law, they can eat my dick, that's word to Pimp
I don't fuck with or talk like all these fuckin' imps
Style violent, give a fuck if you deny it, kids
You can all run naked backwards through a field of dicks
Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit, that's word to B.I.G
I dreamt we owned the world
But I've woken up and it don't exist
Soak it in, I need no assist
You can't slap my wrist, I don't owe you shit
Trust me, I'm a Doctor DOOM, oper-
Rate of my pulse won't raise a bit
Tip-toe on the track like a ballerina
Ski mask, in a Pontiac Catalina
It's obese female opera singer
You can run the jewels or lose your fingers
Me and El-P got time to kill
Got folks to kill, on overkill
He hangin' out the window, I hold the wheel
One black, one white, we shoot to kill
That fuckboy life about to be repealed
That fuckboy shit about to be repelled
Fuckboy Jihad, kill infidels
Allah Akbar, BOOM, from Mike and El
Life is hell, death's a bitch
And these fubar rulers getting rich
I cop a zip, it opens up
I smoke it up, go home and fuck
C'est la vie girl, when in Rome
I gave the face, please pay with dome
My business card says, "You're in luck
I do two things, I rap and fuck"
I fuck and rap, I tote the strap
I smoke the kush, I beat the puss
I read the books, did the math
Don't need a preacher preachin' on my behalf
No teacher can teach my arrogant ass
I'm blowin' on crippy while readin' inscriptions
That's written by Egyptians, and sippin' on whiskey
(Hahahaha) Aye baby, you with me?
Oh my
Don't cry
Oh my
Don't cry
Oh my
Don't cry
Oh my
Don't cry
We run this spot like a Chinese sweatshop
Don't stop, work it, work it 'til chest pop; Cardiac arrested
I'm so invested, I'm self-invented
That's no illusion, there's no confusion
You see the future, you fear the future
I've seen the truth and I'm so deluded
I've! Been a better bad guy than I been, better than bad
Been a bit a bully talk, beating on my chest, in fact
I'm a half stack from a rack
I been around the block, babe, I know a few facts
Maniac, brainiac, run, go tell them that
ATLien, NY felon rap
Handle me wrong I'm snappin'
Show up at your class, what's happenin'?
Schoolyard bully with a fully automatic
Heart full of pain and a head full of havoc
Everybody stepped on the kid and I'm letting them have it, Havoc
Leaving they momma to say, "What happened!?"
Who gon' buy my baby a casket? Fuck that bitch, I'm a bastard
Megablast, I'm mega lit
On Highway 6 and I'm not strapped in
I don't crash, bitch, I just skid
You got the cash? I'll make the trip
I make the trip, you better pay
Done worse for less, don't make my day
I'm not from Earth, from far away
I bust through chests like baby greys
Runnin' the jewels of the game
Whippin' the mix is like chickens of 'caine
Spittin' the sentence again, parents is livid again
Kids is just fuckin' insane
Pointin' that pistol and fist for the chain
Reppin' the symbol like they in a gang
Delivery dope like a dosage of dope
Or a noseful of coke for a junkie or fiend
Oh my
Don't cry
Oh my
Don't cry
Written by: Jaime Meline, Michael Render, Torbitt Schwartz, Wilder Zoby