Saints And Sinners Week (Ain’t Nothing But A Gee Thang.. Son)

Gee... you heard this... this… rapper talking like he don’t know we unjustly serve      
I run the South and the East, and your crew got the North and West locked on that swerve        
Let the words rip my Queen... let’s show these fucks what we really mean.”        
        
The Nun Runner        
      
Oh... you a hard dick on here talking cash shit        
It’s time I put a spin on some thangs, I’m the Nun Runner, bitch        
You think you got the lock of my Gee’s game        
Calling my dog off that mafia pyramid for a dud and fizzle my nizzle, without        
bringing the reign        
Only a snitch tells his plans when he’s ready to bring the hammer and the pain        
Separate those words so I can get peep        
Not worth the paper it’s written on, sissy ass words make Lucifer even weep        
Glimpsing to see which weapons it takes to bring you down to your knees        
Tied hands behind your back, assassination style, getting high just        
listening to you plead        
A bitch like me likes to see a dick bleed        
      
Gee        
      
Nite... nite... after feeling my AK-57 pulling your cap back with a pop and a pow        
My Queen curving my name in your palm... for revenge... we ride and die like Bonnie and Clyde        
Watching your timid ass bleed, you dying tomorrow is now        
I run that hoe        
My lines make her shit flow        
You a cocky son-of-a- bitch trying to come up through my Queen’s one woman show        
that will get you death son and that’s forsho        
That’s how a real gangsta row        
I will toss you up, blast your ass in your rear        
Add under my eye another tattoo of a fallen tear        
      
The Nun Runner        
      
Naw’ll Gee... you don’t talk for your Queen        
I run this ship, muzzle that mouth I can take a motherfucker down in his own wet dream        
If you don’t know how to hustle, steal, taking a nigga out, then you not fit to be a soldier on my team        
Don’t let that alter ego bitch, SKC who ruins my name        
I will fuck you, Gee will choke you, and then we both will bury your ass just to stay sane in this game        
      
Gee        
      
Now put that flow in reverse, like a Gee        
These street politics is for the elite who knows how to talk it, walk it, spit it, and dump your dead ass in the harbor like Boston tea        
You talking like you ain’t up on your par        
Your words carry no weight you sinking fast and far        
I already got you on your knees crying and wishing        
I will hunt you down with my government drone and take you out the        
game like you a paid commission        
Rolling out your flavor, like it has merit and taste        
My little nigga can break your down, torturing you, while choking on        
your dope, don’t worry, this crew will rob your stash while we wait        
Pistol whipping you just for fun        
Then putting you to sleep with my Tommy Gun        
      
The Nun Runner        
      
Stomping you down at the root, yet, loving you blindly to steal your stimulus loot        
How you gonna talk cash when your lyrics is bankrupted, unglued        
Fucking you and then straggling you with your own sheets until you come undone        
      
Gee        
      
I got the money, the bitches, my job to take you out is done, son        
Keep those outdated lyrics from Rapping for Dummies to yourself, and        
show me how a thug can really get down or better yet, run        
Shh… you hear that sound        
The noise emitted when picking your shattered ego up from off the ground        
There are jesters and there are clowns, which face you wearing today        
before you paint the town        
      
The Nun Runner        
      
Got my cat collar all tight around your bloody neck        
You pay me undercover for protection to keep your crew safe from a        
bullet being felt        
Knelt between my thighs, softy licking me like my handsome pet        
Your tongue is weak, next        
Mm…be gentle….. sike... now give me that motherfucking mic        
Crushing it, now give me my prize, you knock anything off my shoulder,        
then it becomes a cat fight        
Free-style, ghetto gritty that’s what pimps and hoes like        
I’m just now getting warmed-up, in the hunt for your blood, now        
scratching you off my hit list        
Someone ought to have told you to wear a Kevlar vest for this diss      
      
The Nun Runner so that you know……..bitchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh        
      
Gee        
      
Damn My Queen... you ruthless        
But I still can ride that phat ass like you my sexy Dragon name toothless