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TALIB KWELI lyrics : "Where Ya Gonna Run"

(feat. Jean Grae)

[Jean:] he's back again for the first day

We gonna do this one a little different. tryna test the waters
(where you gonna run)
[Jean:] not far

(where you gonna run)
[Jean:] where you gonna go


[Verse 1: Jean Grae]
I write underground climb up, this a new line up
^!$$%z fight your way through

If you're not ready to lose may I suggest that you let us the $#&@ through
Everybody clap your hands now, tear the walls down
Dance like Rudy Huxtable scoring a touchdown, you know

Hands in the air, knees in, knees out
Drop a little symbol on them this time, no doubt, let's go
I write ten years deep and tenure's still deep

My bad I'm sorry I don't like when phrases repeat
I meant for the decades almost passed and spaceball was the least
And I'm struggling still hustle to eat

I must be built with Adam and Eve skin
While y'all mother$#&@ers where you flushed in
With your heart poking through on your arm stupid

Drop more bombs than on Saddam's house unarmed
My mouth's a weapon I shout like Armguard steppin'
Didn't need to get loud, no disrepect

But you know the Jean is threat to your checks
^!$$%s heart burning no prowl though sec to stop the attack
Ya neck back's gettin hot on every drop on the track

And now I finally got some heat is good, let it be known
I'll still be here after all this %#@! is done said and gone
Can't keep running the same formula, I'm imploring ya

To quit $#&@ing the game up, before it $#&@s all of ya up

[Chorus:]

Where you gonna run
Where you gonna run
Where you gonna ruuuuuun

Where you gonna ruuuuuun
Where you gonna hide
Where you gonna ruuuuuun

Where you gonna ruuuuuun
(Kweli)
Yeah come on, yeah come on


[Verse 2: Talib Kweli]
Watch these ^!$$%s start to run soon as I hit the track

What get the sack, eyes low like Friskin' cat
My flow get cap throw they gun like official Nas
I'm draftin you ^!$$%s hard quick fast like tiptonat

Diamond cut lyrics so sharp the spit split the glass
Your mouth writing a check that you ask and quick to cash
Screaming how you quick to shoot don't even know the screenplay

^!$$%s rappin black and white and rappers shakin' Jean Grae
Sick of ^!$$%s licking boots I pick and choose my battles when I spit the truth it's hot
Let the pride and move the cattle

Y'all don't really want no beef, that's too real you want veal
You baby sheep hanging in the air and tend to raffle me
Me? I don't like the taste this %#@!'s gamey

Like magazines telling lies and Star Wars like Dick Chaney
It sucks though they losing they flavor like Now and Laters
When I bust them ^!$$%s run for the hills like Al Queda


[Chorus]


[Verse 3: Jean Grae]
She lacks delivery, really, ^!$$% I pack rap symmetry and send it to ya dorm
Why y'all iggin' me for sure

Jean is synonymous to chivalry
Open doors but I step through first
Test the waters and I pee in them got no network

But now everyone's a rapper and everyone'll shoot you dead
Only led I strapped with a razor sharp pencil that could write but it could stab you rapid
It's all $$# backwards, you're all mall performers, actors

What tho?, come on let's race to where the cash is
Get mauled like Roy the alter boy
I'll jet through you like a Jet through flight, I'm unemployed
You still cared to touch me, I gotta keeps the rap level
You face screwed ugly

I'm chasing all you club bunnies
And racing you tackle you down
Take your money with your chest on the ground
I know it's foul, what you gonna do now


[Chorus]

(I think it's time you gave it up!)

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