paroles de chanson In the Beginning - Method Man feat. Run-D.M.C.

How y'all feel out there?
Ah yeah, alright, alright...
Mr. Meth, Run-DMC, Jam-Master Jay, run!
1,2,3 In the place to be, as it is plain to see
He is DJ Run,
And we are the Krush Groovin, the body movin'
Party people your dreams have now been fulfilled
Get out of your seats and lets get ill
That's right y'all...
You're gettin' dollars, when dealing with Rev. Run
Look what I did done
And I come from Hollis, flipped it and scripted it and there it go
Wanna floss, Pull em off, you know I headlinin'
Sell out tours, platinum plaque, wall to wall,
Name ringin' out, from door to door
Still be the King, Run-DMC,
Now y'all brothers wanna rhyme with me
Where's my house I've got the key
Brothers can't see me, not
All ya'll cats tryin to be me
Might as well go on, hits to me
Had a E, now drivin' a Beem
My girl ridin' around in Gucci
Rhyme so raw, I'm told like sushi
Gave some time to rhyme to Susan Lucci
Hoes coming out, saying "Who's she?"
Dead by dawn, rhymin' for you D
Cracks in the cradle, cokes in the spoon
Little boy flew higher than the moon
Willie wanted weapons, Wilma wanted a wool
I come to school and lay down the rule
Johnny with the gun to break out of the crime
Shorty with the 40 was caught in the dark
Corner, black is a goner, didn't really want to go
Now mamma is a warner
Now I walked on ice, and never fell
I spent my time in a plush hotel
Judge a phenomena, deadly but calm world in my palm
Dead by dawn got the right to bear arms, bring me along
Another sound boy dying, hot iron
Stuff flyin, out the hardware appliance
Baby, Momma Crying'
Sobbin' and grievin', you was at odds,
With them kids, till they made it even
Let down your guard, yes you did
Now you barely breathin'
To win a whim, open season on a duck
We don't give a what
Yo, best, best to give it up
Joe and D, lets run these MCs, they phony
From Humphrey, they mad Bogey
Saddle up your horse, there's the sunset Mosey
Jam-Master Jay deserves a trophy for this track right,
Futuristic G past tight
If that's your girlfriend, she wasn't last night, punk
Little boy style's is mad chump, ain't no wins here
Sport is extreme, know what I mean
Gettin royalties, Down with the King...!
None of y'all really made money
Like DJ Run and came the run
And played the Garden like Jordan
You never done it so my brother think about it, come on
It's DJ Run and you the son
It's this style called run on
Alright, now run on
Never leave me open, so dopin' that I be scorin
Cook is sleepin' or they snoring
So boring that I be touring
Lauren told ya that ya lost one
You can't afford this type of life
That it will cost Run
Now speed it up, uh
Run gonna make you wanna cry,
Make you wanna die,
Make you wanna lie, hold up
Got to come thru the rhyme
That run thru the mic, got a bounce to the ounce sure 'nuff,
Not a player, hustler, hater or a buster only in Augusta Georgia
With a rap like a gun, that keeps a brother runnin
But it don't matter cause it will cost ya
Cause you're like a teacher, but I don't reach ya
Soundin like a preacher what?
Nobodys cuts faster than the Jam-Master
Why? 'cause he has to cut
My deal as a DJ, every time we play, put it on replay what?
Run rockin' up the heasy, gettin all greasy, down south with the bud
Run running like a rhino, spittin on vinyl
This is my final gun
Run breakin' that spinal, this is my title
Y'all get phucked with Run!