Spice 1 - Doncha Runaway Lyrics


Spice 1 Lyrics

Doncha Runaway Lyrics
[Verse 1:]
Now don't you run away from my Glock
You can't dodge 17 muthaf*ckin' shots
Could somebody pass me a clip and a trigger
Walk across the party pistol whip a nigga
Shiiit,
I'm comin' up at 'em with the .9's the Glocks and Macs
And they'll never breathe again like Toni Braxton
Cause I don't see nothing wrooong with a little brotha jack
So say "what up?" to the 187 FAC
Nappy head ass muthaf*ckas wearin' plats
Kickin' back like a muthaf*cka slangin' sex
Ready to peel a nigga cap if they got the nap
So if you're funkin' with the FAC
Better to stay strapped
Cause we'll be comin' up at your back with the black Gat
Nigga, and you be feelin' kinda f*cked up
When your homie dropped, it's simple
You can't run away from my Glock

[Chorus: x2]
Doncha runaway
From my Nine
There's no place to hide
I'm gonna get you by and by

[Verse 2:]
Spiggedy One kickin' dat ass with some lay back shit
The trigga-happy nigga, I figure
Niggas won't wanna step to me
If they know I'll be bustin' caps
I roll straps niggas take naps
Cause I don't be f*ckin' around
When it comes to bustin' that steel
I'm too real, niggas feeel me
When I kick this gangsta ass shit that you never heard
But f*ck what you've heard
I smokes niggas like Herb
Put your ass smooth on ice
So nigga don't be 2 proud to beg
For your muthaf*ckin' life
Cause Nine Kelly I'ma make 'em stutter
Make 'em drop, nigga
You can't run away from my Glock

[Chorus: x2]

[Verse 3:]
Comin' like the Lench Mobb swingin' on the vine
Bailin' out peace to my muthaf*ckin' Nine
Pullin' my cap back ready to serve they ass
Givin' a f*ck about what the next nigga done up in the past
Nigga, I like to let a nigga have a bloody body
Don't think I'm bad, no box and no karate
Just a big fat Gat for them suckas
I ain't scared to you muthaf*ckas
Shiiit, and nigga that's how it be
"rollin' with my muthaf*ckin' strap on the side of me"
So don't come at me with that shit
'Bout you gon gaffle me up
I cock your cranium like the muthaf*ckin' [?], nigga
So keep your hand on your pistol grip
Bullets whistlin' and shit
Feel like a f*ckin' missle when they hit
And I advice you to stay on the lurk
Cause if you funkin' with my niggas
You gon put in some work, nigga

[Chorus: x2]

[Outro:]
Yeah nigga
You knew you couldn't f*ck wid this G
Would you wanna step to me
Fault, hoe, haha
Spiggedy One whippin' on that ass
Ant Banks in the muthaf*ckin' house
My nigga Omar
My nigga knocced out muthaf*cka drunk and shit
This nigga Jamar lay down the muthaf*ckin' studio
Drunk in tha muthaf*cka
You know what I'm sayin'
But you know one thing
Everybody in this muthaf*cka's strapped
You know what I'm sayin'
And nobody comin' up short
So don't try to run away from my Glock
Can't dodge 17 muthaf*ckin' shots
187 thousand G
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