Run This City

[P. Diddy]

Hehe, c'mon

As we proceed, to give you what you need

Muh'fuckers - I like this right here c'mon

Hit it

Bad Boy, we here now

We still ain't gon' stop, c'mon

[Verse One: P. Diddy]

Why do cats wanna hate on a boss, straight to Azor

Do petty shit that a coward'll do

Cop little toys like I should be proud of you

I got 2, one platinum one powder blue

Cop cars while you still rentin

Tell time from the Chapard{?}, Frank Mueller{?} or Million Mill Clintons

Platinum Presidential, to keep it simple

Half of y'all couldn't get into what I get into

I know niggaz pressed to stick me, that's why I pack glocks

that hold shots, nuttin less than 50

Niggaz try they best to get me, I see you in the rearview

switchin lanes tryin to get on same exits with me

Tryin to peep where I live at, where I sleep

Where my kids at, don't do that

I have fools with tools, where your kids go to school at

Where you break food, where you think everything cool at

Where you niggaz get bricks at, take shits at

Count cash, take baths, fuck your bitch at

Who you niggaz tryin to stick up? I have lions with irons

to pick up, your bitch, when she pick her wig up

I know niggaz wanna see me shot, lean to the left

In the drop, holdin my chest, wheezin for breath

Can't see me goin out on no meaningless death

Y'all wanna stick me let me see if y'all can get me now

[Chorus x2: scratches]

"I run this city" "who else but me" "the boss"

"Trust me" - "I'm a Bad Boy!"

"You you you rockin with the best"

"Don't worry if I write rhymes, I write checks"

[Verse Two: P. Diddy]

FUCK Y'ALL just don't wanna see me fly

YOU KILLED B.I.G., y'all niggaz seen me cry

That ain't enough? Y'all wanna see me die?

What man say P.D. scared, he lied

Hate on me, cause I got the keys to the city

You wanna see me get Notorious without Biggie

See me without The L.O.X., say I ain't jiggy

See me without Ma$e, say I ain't pretty

Wanna dress in all black, ride what's mine?

Take my shine? Hate on the ball, straight 'til it's all?

Mad cause I got the total package and more

Faith in my shit, y'all keep hatin my shit

I'ma keep hittin y'all, in the face with these hits

I got the real Queen Bee, don't fuck with my bitch

And I gave y'all the blueprints on how to ball

But you niggaz still pray for my downfall

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: P. Diddy]

FUCK Y'ALL cause I'm bad and the boy get papers

Is it the looks, the wheels, the skills, the flavor?

House on the hill, hundred acres, no neighbors

You can't hate this 90's Lee Majors

I'm top pedigree, I show you what cheddar be

Auto-trey nigga as y'all DuPont registry

Gear I wear for whatever the weather be

Gators, the flavors, the colors my leathers be

You smile in my face but behind my back gossip

Plot shit, wanna get me shot to the noggin

Have Justin cryin, who got my pop hit?

Lyin, tryin to tie me to that B.I.G. and 'Pac shit

I can't, don't, and won't stop

And y'all, can't, so don't pop

I told y'all I got thugs on the payroll

Gotta lay low and get up in the anal

[Chorus]