Run the Jewels - Banana Clipper (feat. Big Boi) Lyrics
[Verse 1: Killer Mike]I move with the elegance of an African elephantI presented the evidence eloquent as a presidentEvident, it’s whatever since I deserve me a championshipBut before I banana clip, I’mma chill so my man can rip[Verse 2: El-P]Little man against… and with the heart of an orphanI’ve got the words of a murderer and an eye for distortionYou take a slice of my portion, I’ll take a piece of your profitI’ll drive at illegal speeds and keep an oz. in my pocket[Verse 3: Killer Mike]We run the jewels in your town, a quarter pound on my personI’m known for pounding the stage, I’m talkin’ burning and cursingProducer gave me a beat, said “it’s the beat of the year!”I said “El-P didn’t do it, so get the ***** out of here!”[Verse 4: El-P]You wanna hang? Bring your throat – I’ve got stool and a ropeI’m a slang pope – orang’ in a land with a man’s flowA new addition to the art of the old codeThat’s fully retarded, and put a part in your bone dome[Verse 5: Killer Mike]And we the villains, we ain’t tagged ‘em as bad guysMercy me, merciless me, putting pain in their sad eyesIt’s time for Skywalker talkers to meet the true Darth VaderI hit your mom in ’03, but a G ain’t ate herSo baby boy, you should tighten up and show some respectBefore I Melvin on you, Jody, put my arm on my neckOr worse yet, be the reason your girl want a divorceBe at her crib with your kids sayin’ “***** your fort!”Lil’ nigga…[Verse 6: El-P]The style is radiation leaking, my islandAlso known as Chernobyl talk, listen for the sirensWhere’s the green? I’m a hoarder – you’re the poor distorterSort of morbid, sonning these f-ckin’ whoredom explorersI’m bored – enough of your bummy shit, it’s numb to the core, sureYou sucked a good dick for the fame and couldn’t resist getting playedI f-ck like I’m headed to war, I’m really not playing no gamesLike… goddamnit, I’ll kill the Carrie that mentions my name[Verse 7: Killer Mike]I’m a soldier of fortune, a mercenary on beatI’m merciless, I’ll torture emcees, tie up both of their feetIf they refuse to run the jewels, we beat the bottoms of feetI’m talkin grip pliers, guys, to the top of your teethAnd me a Jaime killed the competition, top of the heapIs where we staying, with their corpses resting under our feetI sent their moms a little cash and a sympathy letterTold her she “raised a bunch of f-ck boys – next time, do better”*****…[Verse 8: Big Boi]We the old Atlanta, new Atlanta, future of the cityDaddy Fat Sax don’t give a damn‘Cause can’t no new nigga get with meNow it’s true niggas or simply simpleminded Simple SimonsBeing dumbed down by the local radio stations by design, and…But I be rhyming – no payola is requiredMy bank account obese as f-ck while yours sits on a dietNigga, your lease is up, you’re fired – quiet, that’s how the boss talkRetain ownership on everything, every car boughtAnd paid for, no neighbours ’cause I’m sittin’ on acresWent to Vegas, jumped a broom ’cause I wasn’t trippin’ on papersOr no pre-nuptial agreement for my moneyIf we broke up, and she took half, I’d still be sitting on commasEight figures, nigga…
