Aasim - Run The Yard lyrics

Ladies and gentlemen it's about that time
The hungry niggas is out let's go, uh

The hurt thrower
The demon far from a churchgoer
The first of the bloodthirsty emerge
From the Earth solo and words give a hearse
Flowers rise form the dirt slower
Each verse is a curse
Kurt Cobain bring the hearse over
The purse snatcher to any beat
You put on attacker after the laughter
Disaster falls on you rap bastards
All of you backpackers rise up
Out of the black cloud
All of you wack clowns
We want our sound back now
Slick kirby, black suit with a slick derby
New York City slick
They should give me a Knicks jersey
Go hard, ho home, go 'Melo
Go Cuban with the Jesus piece
A solid gold yellow
Aasim is, black and milder, Mercedes features
Eighties crack baby, shake the world up
Take your fetus
Arabian Nights, foreign embassy
Take your leaders
Make the hate receivers deaf to
All you make believers

I run the yard, I run the yard
I'm a high school dropout, nigga, I go hard
Yankee fitted is the crown I put on
I'm not a king, I'm a motherfuckin' God
Nigga, I run the yard, I run the yard
I'm a beast from the east
I snatch your Lucky Charms
Your reign on the top
Was short like leprechauns
As I crush so-called willies, thugs
And rapper dons

Uh, ring the alarm
Your synagogue is in danger
The minute I unleash my
Wrath upon your livestock
Notify authorities, Crime Stoppers
And Crime Watch
My crime waves sink your Titanic
And melt your ice block
They say my hip hop's gone
It's in a pine box
Well it's time for the zombies to
Snatch you out of your Abercrombie
Stare in the eyes of the
Biggest dog in the yard
I howl at the moon and take
A shit under the stars
And as far as I'm concerned
I'm still un-behind bars
The menace leadin' the charge from
A band in my garage
I jump of the Earth's crust
And land beyond Mars
Social Club's the product
We stand behind ours
Call me Jeff playin' Leroy
Copy my transition
Got Honda Civic money with Ferrari ambition
I pull a rug from under you, got a ego
I'll humble you
And be the reason why your woman
Is no longer fuckin' you

I run the yard, I run the yard
I'm a high school dropout, nigga, I go hard
Yankee fitted is the crown I put on
I'm not a king, I'm a motherfuckin' God
Nigga, I run the yard, I run the yard
I'm a beast from the east
I snatch your Lucky Charms
Your reign on the top
Was short like leprechauns
As I crush so-called willies, thugs
And rapper dons