Diabolic - Run Ya Pockets lyrics

Yo as a kid on the school
Bus I made a few bucks
Stickin' my classmates with a
Sharpened tooth brush
Then I grew up, saw your watch was nice
Got lots of ice
Then you on the wrong block tonight
No cops in sight
And I can aim a Glock precise
I'd just rather rob your wife
With a pocket knife on the block late
So if you got papes or cop weight
Clearly I'mma stick you like Scotch tape
I'm upstate now on a greyhound
With eight pounds of dro that I
Stole on the way down
I'm quick to hi-jack your best five tracks
Base line, kick snare, sampling high hat
The plot thickens when you're 23 shoplifting
The clock's ticking and those last
Six shots kick in in a shit box whipping
'till I see a nice range
'Cause, I swipe you from the right
Lane soon as the light change

Run ya pockets, hand over your cash
Make it fast or I'mma have to whoop your ass
Run ya pockets, when I'm on your block
I'mma take what you got whether
You like it or not
Run ya pockets, you a rapper with dough
I'mma catch you after your show
Grab it and go
Run ya pockets, I got a daughter to feed
So best believe what you got
Is more than I need

Yo it's lightning
I'm the kid at the bar you might see
Stealing tips to buy Long Island ice-tea
Broke and sheisty, snatching your Rolex
While you alone on your way
Back from the Co-Check
Don't have any dough left
That's the bottom line
So if I see cats ballin' I'm
Fast to rob them blind
For a pound of swag, sixteen ounces bag
Blindfolded, wrist tied, bound and gagged
I'm ruthless, I never show cats mercy
So run your dough stacks
In that throwback jersey
I throw slaps early but
I'm sprayin' next time
Snatchin' your advance
The day you get signed
I ain't toured yet, so my life is pure stress
That's why I left you bleeding
All over your valore sweats
At your door step and I don't even know you
But, I'm snatchin' your dough to re-invest
It in my own crew

Yo submerged in debt
With dough earns respect
I stuck my first connect, sold half
Burned the rest
I'll take the dough you make
While you holdin' weight too
This way I can flip P's like a lower case Q
No one hates you, but we know your address
I'm the one who snatched the dough
That you owe your connects
Every known rapper
Give me your dough after the show
Or I'll go have the car in a tow tag
You'll get bitch slapped
'Till the bones fracture and ribs crack
Pay an A&R to know where the CEO lives at
Kidnap an exec, gun to his naval
Runnin' the label's cash past under the table
While the head in charge of
Artists and record squads gettin' scarred
Ran for his dough and credit cards
Celebs and stars, your funds are profit
Don't get dumb and pop shit
C'mon run ya pockets