Man on the run
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Coming equipped with my father here
Double cross me. Do not dare
Turning every wheel till the wheels fall off
Cuz I won't, I got a spare
Ahead of the curve where the tire rubs
Streets in my town all tire marked
But I'll never burn out like they do
Only burning gun smoke from the fire squad
Taking shots at anybody doubting me
Don't need that energy surrounding me
Son of a gun and a magazine
Telling me what to think and to believe
Took aim with a steady hand gradually
Until there was cameras shooting back at me
Interviews for what I've done
Felt like news crews at a murder scene
"This just in. Nox how are you feeling?"
I been working myself so hard, all day just to get it
What I been getting is work done for everybody just to finish
So they can do their tours, their promo, their merch
I get a quick check they gone in a blur
I never get no love back, not even a mention
But in person we cool, im happy and all that
I only get hit up for some recalled tracks
No texts other than coming up call backs
Thats why I need make my own shit to fall back
I have too many things on my mind to list
Too much shit outside my Chest
Too much ammo inside this clip, to not
Unload a little bit, I hope you dont mind this dynamite stick, when I light it
Ill be the
Man on the run
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Coming equipped with my father here
Shells on the ground thats my brothers ya
Rest in peace, fallen soldiers
Went out with a bang, from the glockenspiel
All in the family, family was split
Was I was 15, apartment for a crib
Momma was an addict, daddy worked overtime
I hung out with friends, set it off with a click
Double cross me, do not dare
Triple promise with a pinky swear
Fortune and fame at the bottom of a fifth
Bottom of the 9th, the games a win
I came to win, shot caller ya
Shoot my shot, the shot is real
Your shot is flare, cry for help
Noones there, 911, calling scared f*ck it
Imma man on a run
Ur running from the man with the gun
Ive been running this shit for 3 years
With no ones help, than what I've done
By myself, no manager, I hired myself
Barely scraping by, with all this tax
So I make sure that im paid all in cash in my deposit stash
American dreams built upon debts in a career no curriculum could teach
Made my sound, New Englands own so
If you hear it elsewhere know that it's a reach
(California) we dont need it
Built this shit on the east bitch
If you cant beat em' then you can join em' I guess
Son of a gun, I dont need fists
Man on the run
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Man on the run
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Nox Beatz - Sonn of a Gunn Lyrics
Nox Beatz - Sonn of a Gunn Lyrics
Official
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If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
English
Man on the run
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Coming equipped with my father here
Double cross me. Do not dare
Turning every wheel till the wheels fall off
Cuz I won't, I got a spare
Ahead of the curve where the tire rubs
Streets in my town all tire marked
But I'll never burn out like they do
Only burning gun smoke from the fire squad
Taking shots at anybody doubting me
Don't need that energy surrounding me
Son of a gun and a magazine
Telling me what to think and to believe
Took aim with a steady hand gradually
Until there was cameras shooting back at me
Interviews for what I've done
Felt like news crews at a murder scene
"This just in. Nox how are you feeling?"
I been working myself so hard, all day just to get it
What I been getting is work done for everybody just to finish
So they can do their tours, their promo, their merch
I get a quick check they gone in a blur
I never get no love back, not even a mention
But in person we cool, im happy and all that
I only get hit up for some recalled tracks
No texts other than coming up call backs
Thats why I need make my own shit to fall back
I have too many things on my mind to list
Too much shit outside my Chest
Too much ammo inside this clip, to not
Unload a little bit, I hope you dont mind this dynamite stick, when I light it
Ill be the
Man on the run
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Coming equipped with my father here
Shells on the ground thats my brothers ya
Rest in peace, fallen soldiers
Went out with a bang, from the glockenspiel
All in the family, family was split
Was I was 15, apartment for a crib
Momma was an addict, daddy worked overtime
I hung out with friends, set it off with a click
Double cross me, do not dare
Triple promise with a pinky swear
Fortune and fame at the bottom of a fifth
Bottom of the 9th, the games a win
I came to win, shot caller ya
Shoot my shot, the shot is real
Your shot is flare, cry for help
Noones there, 911, calling scared f*ck it
Imma man on a run
Ur running from the man with the gun
Ive been running this shit for 3 years
With no ones help, than what I've done
By myself, no manager, I hired myself
Barely scraping by, with all this tax
So I make sure that im paid all in cash in my deposit stash
American dreams built upon debts in a career no curriculum could teach
Made my sound, New Englands own so
If you hear it elsewhere know that it's a reach
(California) we dont need it
Built this shit on the east bitch
If you cant beat em' then you can join em' I guess
Son of a gun, I dont need fists
Man on the run
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Man on the run
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Coming equipped with my father here
Double cross me. Do not dare
Turning every wheel till the wheels fall off
Cuz I won't, I got a spare
Ahead of the curve where the tire rubs
Streets in my town all tire marked
But I'll never burn out like they do
Only burning gun smoke from the fire squad
Taking shots at anybody doubting me
Don't need that energy surrounding me
Son of a gun and a magazine
Telling me what to think and to believe
Took aim with a steady hand gradually
Until there was cameras shooting back at me
Interviews for what I've done
Felt like news crews at a murder scene
"This just in. Nox how are you feeling?"
I been working myself so hard, all day just to get it
What I been getting is work done for everybody just to finish
So they can do their tours, their promo, their merch
I get a quick check they gone in a blur
I never get no love back, not even a mention
But in person we cool, im happy and all that
I only get hit up for some recalled tracks
No texts other than coming up call backs
Thats why I need make my own shit to fall back
I have too many things on my mind to list
Too much shit outside my Chest
Too much ammo inside this clip, to not
Unload a little bit, I hope you dont mind this dynamite stick, when I light it
Ill be the
Man on the run
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Coming equipped with my father here
Shells on the ground thats my brothers ya
Rest in peace, fallen soldiers
Went out with a bang, from the glockenspiel
All in the family, family was split
Was I was 15, apartment for a crib
Momma was an addict, daddy worked overtime
I hung out with friends, set it off with a click
Double cross me, do not dare
Triple promise with a pinky swear
Fortune and fame at the bottom of a fifth
Bottom of the 9th, the games a win
I came to win, shot caller ya
Shoot my shot, the shot is real
Your shot is flare, cry for help
Noones there, 911, calling scared f*ck it
Imma man on a run
Ur running from the man with the gun
Ive been running this shit for 3 years
With no ones help, than what I've done
By myself, no manager, I hired myself
Barely scraping by, with all this tax
So I make sure that im paid all in cash in my deposit stash
American dreams built upon debts in a career no curriculum could teach
Made my sound, New Englands own so
If you hear it elsewhere know that it's a reach
(California) we dont need it
Built this shit on the east bitch
If you cant beat em' then you can join em' I guess
Son of a gun, I dont need fists
Man on the run
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Man on the run
Son of a gun
Baby, licking off shots
From the tip of my tongue
Till the damage is done
It'll be ringing out like
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Dadadadadadadada dada dada
Writer: Brian Eisner
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid