Music Video

Run The Jewels - Banana Clipper (feat. Big Boi) | from the Run The Jewels album
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Run The Jewels
Run The Jewels
Performer
EL-P
EL-P
Performer
Killer Mike
Killer Mike
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jaime Meline
Jaime Meline
Lyrics
Michael Render
Michael Render
Composer
Antwan André Patton
Antwan André Patton
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
EL-P
EL-P
Producer

Lyrics

I move with the elegance of an African elephant I presented the evidence, eloquent as the President Evident, it's with emphasis, I deserve me a championship But before I banana clip, I'ma chill so my man can rip Little man against Hellion with the heart of a orphan I got the words of a murderer and a eye for distortion You take a slice of my portion, I'll take a piece of your profit I drive at illegal speeds and keep an OZ in my pocket We run the jewels in your town, a quarter pound on my person I'm known for pounding the stage, I'm talking burning and cursing Producer gave me a beat, said it's the beat of the year I said "El-P didn't do it, so get the fuck outta here!" You wanna hang? Bring your throat, I got stools and a rope I'm a slang pope, haranguing the land with a man's flow A new addition to the art of the old code That's fully retarded and put a part in your bold dome (ayy, El) Ay, we the villains, we antagonist bad guys Mercy me, merciless me putting pain in they sad eyes It's time for Skywalker talkers meet the true Darth Vader I hit your mom in '03, but a G ain't ate her So baby boy, you should tighten up and show some respect Before I Melvin on you, Jody, put my arm on your neck Or worse yet, be the reason your girl want a divorce Be at her crib with your kids saying "Fuck your fort, lil' nigga!" The style is radiation leak at Mile Island Also known as Chernobyl talk, listen for the sirens For the green, I'm a hoarder, you're the poor distorter, sorta Morbid, sonnin' these fuckin' whore dumb explorers, we're bored 'Nough of your bummy shit, it's numb to the core, sure You suck a good dick for the fame and couldn't resist getting played I fuck like I'm headed to war, I'm really not playing no games But tag me, goddamn it, I'll kill the carrier mentions my name Hey, I'm a soldier of fortune, a mercenary on beat I'm merciless, I'll torture MCs, tie up both of they feet If they refuse to run the jewels, we beat the bottoms of feet I'm talking grip pliers, guys, to the top of your teeth Hey, me and Jaime killed the competition, top of the heap Is where we stayin' when they corpses resting under our feet I sent they mom a little cash and a sympathy letter Told her she raised a bunch o' fuckboys, next time do better, bitch (Run The Jewels) We the old Atlanta, new Atlanta; future of the city Daddy Fat Saxx don't give a damn 'Cause can't nan' new nigga get with me Now it's true, niggas are simply simple-minded, simple Simons Being dumbed down by the local radio stations by designin' But what I be rhyming? No payola is required My bank account obese as fuck while yours sits on a diet Nigga, your lease is up, you're fired; quiet, that's how the boss talk Retain ownership on everything, every car bought And paid for, no neighbors 'cause I'm sitting on acres Went to Vegas, jumped the broom 'Cause I wasn't trippin' on papers Or no prenuptual agreement for mama If we broke up and she took half, I'd still be sitting on commas Eight figures, nigga
Writer(s): Michael Santigo Render, Jaime Meline, Antwan A. Patton Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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