[P. Diddy]
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Hehe, c'mon
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As we proceed, to give you what you need
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Muh'fuckers - I like this right here c'mon
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Hit it
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Bad Boy, we here now
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We still ain't gon' stop, c'mon
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[Verse 1: P. Diddy]
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Why do cats wanna hate on a boss, straight to Azor
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Do petty shit that a coward'll do
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Cop little toys like I should be proud of you
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I got 2, one platinum one powder blue
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Cop cars while you still rentin
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Tell time from the Chapard[?], Frank Mueller[?] or Million Mill Clintons
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Platinum Presidential, to keep it simple
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Half of y'all couldn't get into what I get into
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I know niggaz pressed to stick me, that's why I pack glocks
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that hold shots, nuttin less than 50
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Niggaz try they best to get me, I see you in the rearview
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switchin lanes tryin to get on same exits with me
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Tryin to peep where I live at, where I sleep
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Where my kids at, don't do that
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I have fools with tools, where your kids go to school at
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Where you break food, where you think everything cool at
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Where you niggaz get bricks at, take shits at
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Count cash, take baths, fuck your bitch at
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Who you niggaz tryin to stick up? I have lions with irons
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to pick up, your bitch, when she pick her wig up
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I know niggaz wanna see me shot, lean to the left
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In the drop, holdin my chest, wheezin for breath
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Can't see me goin out on no meaningless death
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Y'all wanna stick me let me see if y'all can get me now
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[Chorus x2: scratches]
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"I run this city" "who else but me" "the boss"
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"Trust me" - "I'm a Bad Boy!"
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"You you you rockin with the best"
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"Don't worry if I write rhymes, I write checks"
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[Verse 2: P. Diddy]
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FUCK Y'ALL just don't wanna see me fly
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YOU KILLED B.I.G., y'all niggaz seen me cry
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That ain't enough? Y'all wanna see me die?
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What man say P.D. scared, he lied
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Hate on me, cause I got the keys to the city
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You wanna see me get Notorious without Biggie
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See me without The L.O.X., say I ain't jiggy
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See me without Ma$e, say I ain't pretty
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Wanna dress in all black, ride what's mine?
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Take my shine? Hate on the ball, straight 'til it's all?
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Mad cause I got the total package and more
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Faith in my shit, y'all keep hatin my shit
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I'ma keep hittin y'all, in the face with these hits
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I got the real Queen Bee, don't fuck with my bitch
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And I gave y'all the blueprints on how to ball
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But you niggaz still pray for my downfall
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 3: P. Diddy]
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FUCK Y'ALL cause I'm bad and the boy get papers
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Is it the looks, the wheels, the skills, the flavor?
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House on the hill, hundred acres, no neighbors
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You can't hate this 90's Lee Majors
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I'm top pedigree, I show you what cheddar be
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Auto-trey nigga as y'all DuPont registry
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Gear I wear for whatever the weather be
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Gators, the flavors, the colors my leathers be
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You smile in my face but behind my back gossip
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Plot shit, wanna get me shot to the noggin
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Have Justin cryin, who got my pop hit?
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Lyin, tryin to tie me to that B.I.G. and 'Pac shit
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I can't, don't, and won't stop
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And y'all, can't, so don't pop
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I told y'all I got thugs on the payroll
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Gotta lay low and get up in the anal
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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Run This City
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| Clinton Sparks |
