Chase Me (Explicit) - Danger Mouse/Run The Jewels/Big Boi Written by:Brian Burton/Jon Spencer/Jaime Meline/Hector Delgado/Michael Render/Antwan Patton Here's what we know Two men and a woman came into the bank branch Clad in black business clothing
Trench coats bandannas and sunglasses
They pulled guns out and ordered everybody to the floor
And then cleaned out the registers And hear this they even swiped jewelry from some of the customers
Aye woo woo
Run Run Run The Jewels Gangster like you wake up in Dickies and load the clippy
The rate of our ascension makes statisticians feel sickly Accountants they get snippy they never counted so quickly
Got 'em up sniffin' yak up off an abacus for a living
Crime authors autobiographically bastards
Pain passin' put a pain in your brain batter
Style droppin' the drums and stun all gawkers Small talkers get launched on clobbered and tossed off
Knock 'em on just to get rocks off Put a pause on all of that soft talk chop chop Tick tock you got until the hands on the clock stop I'm bagging a bag then I'm backing out better back off
That's why I'm outta here baby
Before these clowns put me down in the ground baby
I'm running reds 'til I'm out of this town baby
You want your money back Chase me
Jewel runner gold dripper flow flipper Smoke killer slow sipper quick temper Temperamental sharp mental departmental Tight fellow wouldn't want to be him wouldn't want to see him They the type really be jealous get'cha hype Oh Jesus these n***as is polices We gon' shower on these pussies they mommas gon' know Jesus Junkie Johnny told me Money these n***as should know better But they monkeys so you got to show junkies ain't no let up
Bad manners the bad man'll do bad things A bad b**ch gave me bomb head to Bad Brains The sheriff's daughter we be outta there 'fore dad came
That's why I'm outta here baby
Before these clowns put me down in the ground baby
I'm running reds 'til I'm out of this town baby
You want your money back Chase me
You ain't gonna get your money back
Ain't gonna get the money jack You ain't gonna get that money back
I got the bag it ain't coming back You ain't gonna get your money jack
I got the bag it ain't coming back You ain't gonna get your money jack
I got the bag
Real grippers pimp n***as with Gucci slippers Coochie tippers Magic City got groupie strippers A crew of killers and dealers we got this newbie with us We turn Pirellis to jellies ex cons and former cellies Stay on ready foot on that very heavy Good on deck smelly smelly Show some respect or you'll get showered like parade confetti Made man I'm made already nobody safe from petty 450 horse up in the Porsche 600 in the Chevy Buddy I'm nutty I've got some screws loose And if your b**ch wants some cutty baby I choose you Underground kings speed and sound things Run the sacks and be aware of all your surroundings
That's why I'm outta here baby
Before these clowns put me down in the ground baby
I'm running reds 'til I'm out of this town baby
You want your money back Chase me
Thank you very much ladies and gentlemen Right now I got to tell you about the fabulous most groovy
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Bad manners the bad man'll do bad things A bad b**ch gave me bomb head to Bad Brains The sheriff's daughter we be outta there 'fore dad came