Artist: Tech N9ne f/ Krizz Kaliko, Lace, Jr. Album: The Storm Song: No Runnin to Ya Mama Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Intro: Tech N9ne] Yeahhhh, you must be throw'd You gon' make them thangs come up out that load You ain't built like that but you talk so cold Yeahhhhhhhh, we know! [Tech N9ne] Hurts now, purps found cause a nigga squirt rounds Actin like you wore a purse on turf grounds How come his homies didn't tell him pull his skirt down? Now look at ya Loudmouth we found a round to match ya Bound to smack ya, now the ground'll catch ya Cause you frowned at the hounds and you found disaster! He talkin hella shady How I get it on the daily They jelly 'bout my gravy but they crazy cause they think I won't be bangin like the '80s Your homie was a movie So we dot him with the tooly Got his family sick and woozy Givin him the finger where Rodney O and Joe Cooley They hot around the collar Cause I got a lot of shotters So don't nobody bother If they try to then we stoppin they medulla oblongata So be careful when you saucin You could end up in the coffin You better take precaution When you see real niggaz crossin shut the fuck up when we talkin If you get my killers heated You'll be curled up like a fetus All them words you're gonna eat it Every fist and all the feet is never ceasin when you plead it So I think you better comma Or get lit up with the llama K.C. all the way to Ghana When you grown and start the drama ain't no runnin to ya mama nigga! [Chorus: Lace, Jr. + (Krizz Kaliko) No runnin to ya mama When you caught up in the drama No runnin to ya mama When you caught up in the drama cause you did nobody honor No runnin to ya mama When you caught up in the drama No runnin to ya mama When you caught up in the drama cause you did nobody honor (Oooooooooooh, way-oh-way-oh-way-oh-way-ohh) (Way-oh-way-oh-way-oh-way-ohh, way-oh-way-oh-way-oh-way-ohh) (Oooooooooooh, way-oh-way-oh-way-oh-way-ohh) (Way-oh-way-oh-way-oh-way-ohh, way-oh-way-oh-way-oh-way-ohh) [Tech N9ne] We the boss players In this, industry and not SEGA Nigga we'll stop haters We take 'em to the end and then it's "Biba Las Begas" If you trippin y'all nuts Cause we sick and all bust So get the motherfuckin pineapple The rum and the coconut and mix it all UP! We comin from the ghetto And we keep the heavy metal So you suckers better settle cause we turn a wolf and devil to a woman in stilettos Cause they didn't really want it They was only in the moment Hella talkin, never on it Had they chance and now they blown it cause the king was they opponent He bit the hand that fed him Run you over if you let him All the homies wanna get him Heard the words when he said 'em and I know that he regret 'em Cause we be gettin money And he be lookin bummy So keep the coward from me When you see me don't be chummy, muh'fuckin dummy I know you can't stand me But you know that we go HAM-y Have you sleepin like a Xanny Hit 'em with a super whammy when I cut 'em from the family We in every nook and cranny Hit you when you're in your jammies When you're in your manny panties, see me and my brother Sammy Ain't no yellin for your granny and no runnin to ya mammy nigga! [Chorus]