RFTC

[Verse 1]

Uh, You got a bag full of paint, a head full of brain

No snow, no rain, ain't got no complaint

Like you high on that Krylon runnin' through your veins

You look like a war vet starin' at them trains

It's like you zenned the fuck out

Sittin' in the bushes, lettin' all the bugs out

One smoke, one beer, when the coast is clear

You disappear into your zone, stoned on the fear

Lookin' at scarred box cars

Focus in and notice one of the ones most fit

It's like that one there, has got your name all over it

So that one there, is gettin' your name all over it

Pull a can of sky blue for the outline

Sky for the limits, blue for the down time

Nerves at blast, disturbin' the masses of rats with these thin tips and fat caps

Thinkin' 'bout your little brother

'Cause he been tryna hit the yard with you all summer

It's a good thing that you didn't bring him along

'Cause that's when you saw the flashlights singing this song like

[Chorus]

Run, run, run these yards

Run, run, don't get caught

Run, run, every piece understood

(I wanna tell 'em you were good on the foot, now)

Run, run, run these yards

Run, run, don't get caught

Run, run, every piece understood

(Better believe you ran as fast as you could)

[Verse 2]

It wasn't fast enough, a simple catch

Cornered in the parking lot, hidin' in the trash

You heard the footsteps, heart beatin' hard

Are you gonna have to fight with a trainyard guard?

You stepped out on some "yup, let's start this"

Puffin' out your chest like you wasn't in the garbage

And that's when the universe stopped for ya

Now ya lookin' straight at a uniformed officer

What you think, should you run, run

And take a chance at gettin' some from his stun gun

That ain't one on one, plus he look kinda young

The type that might beat your ass just for fun, huh

So tell me what the fuck are you supposed to do

Already thinkin' about the cuffs holdin' you

Already got a few cases over you

But then the police man says "no, it's cool"

What, where's the punch line? Can't call it

Too many paint fumes, musta lost it

He handed you your bag and said "Here, I think you dropped this"

'Cause this cop grew up on hip hop (got it)

[Chorus]

Run, run, run these yards

Run, run, don't get caught

Run, run, every piece understood

(It all depends on where the pieces are put)

Run, run, run these yards

Run, run, don't get caught

Run, run, every piece understood

(Now do your thing and make the neighborhood look good)