Nhạc sĩ: Brian Burton, Jon Spencer, Hector Delgado | Lời: Brian Burton, Jon Spencer, Hector Delgado
Lời đăng bởi: fenghui.liu
Here's what we know. Two men and a woman came into the bank branch clad in black business clothing, trench coats, bandanas, and sunglasses. They pulled guns and ordered everybody to the floor. They then cleaned out the registers, and hear this, they even swiped jewelry from some of the customers. Aye! Woo! Woo! Run, run, runners is gangster like you wake up in jinkies and load the clippy. The rate of our sanction makes statisticians feel sick. Accountants, they can tip me, they never counted so quickly. Got em up sniffing yak off a abacus for a lesson. Crime authors, autobiographically bastards. Pay taxes, put a pain in your brain pattern. Style droppin' the drums and stun all gossips. Small causes get launched on, clobbered and tossed off. Knock em off just to get rocks off. Put a pause on all of that soft talk, chop chop. Tick tock, you got insular hands on the clock stop. I'm baggin' a bag and I'm backin' out better back off. Aye! That's why I'm outta here, baby. Before these clowns put me down in the ground, baby. I'm running red till I'm outta this town, baby. Aye! You want your money back? Chase me. Chase me. Chase me. Chase me. Huh? Chase me. Chase me. Chase me. Huh? New runner, gold tripper, flow flipper. Smoke killer, slow zipper, quick temper. Temperamental, sharp mental, departmental. Tight feller, wouldn't wanna be him, wouldn't wanna see him. Date a type, really be jealous, get ya hype. Oh Jesus, these niggas is polices. We gon' shower on these pussies, they mamas gon' know Jesus. Dr. Johnny told me money, these niggas should know better. But they murky, so you got to show trinkets, ain't no leather. Bad manners, the bad manner do bad thang. A bad bitch gave me bomb head to bad brains. The sheriff's daughter, we beat out of there for that kind. Aye! That's why I'm outta here, baby. Before these clowns put me down in the ground, baby. I'm running red till I'm outta this town, baby. Aye! You want your money back? Chase me. Ain't gonna get your money back. Ain't gonna get the money back. Ain't gonna get that money back. I got the bag, it ain't coming back. Ain't gonna get your money back. I got the bag, it ain't coming back. Ain't gonna get your money back. I got the bag, I got the bag. We on grippers, pimp niggas with Gucci slippers. Gucci tippers, Magic City got crooked strippers. A crew of killers and dealers, we got this newbie with us. We turn Pirellis to jellies, Ex-Cons and former sellies. Stay on ready, foot on neck, very heavy. Good on deck, smelly, smelly. Show some respect or you get showered like Parade Confetti. Made man or made already, nobody's safe from padding. 450 horse up in the horses, 100 in the Chevy. Buddy, I'm nutty, I got some screws loose. And if your bitch want some cutty, baby, I choose you. Underground kings, speed and sound fiends. Run the sacks and beware of all your surroundings. Aye! That's why I'm outta here, baby. Before these clowns put me down in the ground, baby. I'm running red till I'm out of this town, baby. Aye! You want your money back, chase me. Chase me, chase me. Thank you very much. Ladies and gentlemen, right now I got to tell you about the King. The King is back. He's back for me.