Close Your Eyes
Run the Jewels Lyrics


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Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, run them, fuck the slow mo

Fashion slave, you protestin' to get in a fuckin' look book
Everything I scribble's like The Anarchist Cookbook
(Look good, posing in a centerfold of Crook Book)
Black on black on black with a ski mask, that is my crook look
How you like my stylin', bruh? Ain't nobody stylin', bruh
'Bout to turn this mothafucka up like Riker's Island, bruh
Where my thuggers and my cripples and my blooders and my brothers?
When you niggas gon' unite and kill the police, mothafuckas?
Or take over a jail, give those COs hell
The burnin' of the sulfur, God damn I love the smell
Blankets and pillow torchin', where the fuck the warden?
And when you find him, we don't kill him, we just waterboard him
We killin' 'em for freedom cause they tortured us for boredom
And even if some good ones die, fuck it, the Lord'll sort 'em

We out of order, your honor, you're out of order
This whole court is unimportant, you fuckers are walkin' corpses
I'm a flip wig synonym, livin' within distortion
I'll bite into a cyanide molar before you whores win
I'm a New Yorkian, I fuck for the jump
I wear my Yankee so tilted I actually walk with a hunch
Look at Mikey, I think he likey, we are sinister sons
(Aye, we the type to beat the preacher with a grin and a gun)

Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them
Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them

A wise man once said, ("We all dead, fuck it")
Just spit it disgusting youngin', and hold your nuts while you're gunnin'
I listened, tatted a sentence on my dick last summer
Now I'll never get that phrase off my brain, it's no wonder
I'm here to buy hearts, I got hundreds, honey
The cheaper the parts, the better buy for the money
I'm trained in vagina whisperin', glistenin'
Waitin' for their christenin', I know the neighbors can't help but listen in
A dirty boy who come down on a side of dissonance
I can't even relax without sirens off in the distances
Not shittin' you, little buddy, this fuckin' island's a prison
The only solace I have is the act of conjugal visitin'

My solitary condition's preventin' conjugal visits
Go mane and missin' my misses, they keepin' me from my children
Conditions create a villain, the villain is givin' vision
The vision becomes a vow to seek vengeance on all the vicious
Liars and politicians, profiteers of the prisons
The forehead engravers, enslavers of men and women
Includin' members of clergy that rule on you through religion
(So strippin' kids to the nude and then tell 'em God'll forgive 'em)

Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them
Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them

It's De La on the cut, liftin' 6 on your stitchy crew
I'm miles ahead of you, you can sip my bitches brew
My battle status is burnin' mansions from Dallas to Malibu
Check my résumé, your residence is residue
Call her a skin job and my honey dip'll backflip for you
You playin', God your eye sockets, she gon' rip in two
We sick of bleedin' out a trace, spray a victim, you
Done dyin', Phillip AK Dickin' you
With clips in the bottom, we dippin' from Gotham
Yes eclipsed by the shadows, a dark dance to the coffin
I'm a fellow with melanin, suspect of a felony
Ripped like Rakim Allah, feds is checkin' my melody
Yes aggressively tested we'll bump stretchers and penalties
Dump cases with face and the cop pleas when we seizing a pump
With reason to dump on you global grand dragons
Still pilin' fast, plus Afghani toe taggin'
Now they trackin' me and we bustin' back, see
The only thing that close quicker than our caskets be the factories

Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them
Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
Run them, run them, r-run them, r-run them, run them, r-run them

Overall Meaning

The lyrics to Run the Jewels' song "Close Your Eyes" are filled with political undertones and calls to action for Black unity against systemic oppression. The first verse includes a reference to being a "fashion slave," suggesting that the fashion industry perpetuates corporate consumerism that spans to most aspects of modern life. The singer identifies as an anarchist, with their writings being compared to the infamous Anarchist Cookbook, and they continue to challenge the current political and legal systems by urging those who have experienced police brutality and imprisonment to unite against law enforcement and administration.


The second verse delves deeper into this critique, arguing that judges and politicians have lost their moral compasses and actively work to profit off mass incarceration, and in turn, the oppression and enslavement of marginalized communities. The alternating rhymes and off-beat delivery create a sense of unpredictability and unease throughout the song. The chorus repeatedly emphasizes the need for speed and action, with the singer demanding that their community "run them jewels fast." The song ends in a series of metaphors where the singer compares their flow to a jazz musician’s on-the-fly improvisation and their existence to one akin to a “fellow with melanin, suspect of a felony.”


Line by Line Meaning

Run them jewels fast, run them, run them jewels fast
The urgency to run quickly and move fast is emphasized through repetition


Run them, run them, r-run them, run them, fuck the slow mo
The importance of not slowing down is stressed while disregarding leisurely movement


Fashion slave, you protestin' to get in a fuckin' look book
The pressure to fit in a certain aesthetic is acknowledged and criticized


Everything I scribble's like The Anarchist Cookbook
The artist's words hold the potential to incite chaos and rebellion, similar to the iconically controversial anarchist guide


Black on black on black with a ski mask, that is my crook look
The artist's criminal exterior is represented through a ski mask and black clothing


How you like my stylin', bruh? Ain't nobody stylin', bruh
The singer's fashion is unique and incomparable to anyone else's


'Bout to turn this mothafucka up like Riker's Island, bruh
The singer plans to incite chaos and uproar similar to the violent prison in New York City


Where my thuggers and my cripples and my blooders and my brothers?
The artist questions the whereabouts and unity of those in similar circumstances as himself


When you niggas gon' unite and kill the police, mothafuckas?
The artist suggests violent retaliation and a call for unity against the oppressors


Or take over a jail, give those COs hell
The artist suggests taking control of the prisons and punishing those in power


The burnin' of the sulfur, God damn I love the smell
The singer enjoys the chaos and destruction that arises from rebelling against the system


Blankets and pillow torchin', where the fuck the warden?
The artist describes the violent rebellion and destruction happening in the jail in the absence of authority


And when you find him, we don't kill him, we just waterboard him
The singer suggests using torture to punish those in power, but not necessarily killing them


We killin' 'em for freedom cause they tortured us for boredom
The singer justifies violence and murder as a revenge for the cruel and inhumane treatment they faced


And even if some good ones die, fuck it, the Lord'll sort 'em
The singer accepts the cost of violence and justifies the death of even good people


We out of order, your honor, you're out of order
The artist suggests the court and the justice system are corrupt and in chaos


This whole court is unimportant, you fuckers are walkin' corpses
The artist discredits the validity and importance of the court and those who uphold it


I'm a flip wig synonym, livin' within distortion
The singer describes himself in an unconventional and chaotic manner


I'll bite into a cyanide molar before you whores win
The singer would rather commit suicide than let his enemies win


I'm a New Yorkian, I fuck for the jump
The artist identifies as a New Yorker and has sex without commitment


I wear my Yankee so tilted I actually walk with a hunch
The artist wears his hat so tilted that it affects his posture


Look at Mikey, I think he likey, we are sinister sons
The artist and his associates take pleasure in their violent and malicious behaviors


Aye, we the type to beat the preacher with a grin and a gun
The singer and his associates are violent and disrespectful towards authority figures and highly regarded individuals


A wise man once said, ('We all dead, fuck it')
The inevitability of death and the artist's disregard for it is referenced


Just spit it disgusting youngin', and hold your nuts while you're gunnin'
The singer encourages the listener to be aggressive in their actions


I listened, tatted a sentence on my dick last summer
The singer is dedicated to his beliefs and has tattooed a mantra on his body


Now I'll never get that phrase off my brain, it's no wonder
The singer's dedication and obsession is acknowledged


I'm here to buy hearts, I got hundreds, honey
The artist is willing to pay for loyalty and love


The cheaper the parts, the better buy for the money
The artist values quantity over quality


I'm trained in vagina whisperin', glistenin'
The singer boasts about his sexual prowess and ability to please women


Waitin' for their christenin', I know the neighbors can't help but listen in
The singer is confident in his sexual abilities and is not afraid to show them


A dirty boy who come down on a side of dissonance
The artist's morals and beliefs are unconventional compared to society's standards


I can't even relax without sirens off in the distances
The artist is accustomed to the chaos and noise around him


Not shittin' you, little buddy, this fuckin' island's a prison
The artist feels trapped and confined even in a seemingly free environment


The only solace I have is the act of conjugal visitin'
The singer finds comfort in intimacy and connections with others, even if it is limited


My solitary condition's preventin' conjugal visits
The artist's isolation is preventing him from having intimate relationships


Go mane and missin' my misses, they keepin' me from my children
The singer misses and longs for his family, but is unable to see them due to his circumstances


Conditions create a villain, the villain is givin' vision
The singer blames his villainous actions on the circumstances around him


The vision becomes a vow to seek vengeance on all the vicious
The singer seeks revenge on those who have wronged him


Liars and politicians, profiteers of the prisons
The artist believes those in power are corrupt and use the prison system for profit


The forehead engravers, enslavers of men and women
The artist condemns those who brand others as property or slaves


Includin' members of clergy that rule on you through religion
The singer criticizes religious leaders who use their faith to control others


So strippin' kids to the nude and then tell 'em God'll forgive 'em
The singer highlights the hypocrisy and manipulation of religious authority figures


It's De La on the cut, liftin' 6 on your stitchy crew
The DJ De La Soul is introduced and credited for adding sound to the verses


I'm miles ahead of you, you can sip my bitches brew
The artist is superior to others and has a unique creation to offer


My battle status is burnin' mansions from Dallas to Malibu
The artist describes himself as powerful and capable of destruction in wealthy neighborhoods


Check my résumé, your residence is residue
The singer suggests that he has a history of violence and that others are mere remnants in his presence


Call her a skin job and my honey dip'll backflip for you
The artist's female companion will defend him and fight for him if anyone insults her


You playin', God your eye sockets, she gon' rip in two
The singer's companion is capable of violence and destruction to protect herself or others


We sick of bleedin' out a trace, spray a victim, you
The singer is tired of being oppressed and will attack anyone who threatens them


Done dyin', Phillip AK Dickin' you
The singer refuses to die or accept defeat, referencing writer Philip K. Dick


With clips in the bottom, we dippin' from Gotham
The artist and his associates are armed and leaving Gotham City


Yes eclipsed by the shadows, a dark dance to the coffin
The artist and his associates are surrounded by darkness and death as they move towards their final destination


I'm a fellow with melanin, suspect of a felony
The singer is Black and often profiled and accused of crimes


Ripped like Rakim Allah, feds is checkin' my melody
The singer's lyrics and messages are monitored and investigated by the authorities


Yes aggressively tested we'll bump stretchers and penalties
The artist anticipates and is ready to face punishment and repercussions for their actions


Dump cases with face and the cop pleas when we seizing a pump
The artist describes violence towards the police and suggests that they will use guns to overpower them


With reason to dump on you global grand dragons
The artist identifies and condemns those in positions of power and oppression


Still pilin' fast, plus Afghani toe taggin'
The singer suggests that the violent actions and deaths are still increasing at a fast rate


Now they trackin' me and we bustin' back, see
The artist is being monitored and pursued, but is fighting back


The only thing that close quicker than our caskets be the factories
The singer believes that death is imminent and that the factories producing weapons and violence are the cause of it




Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Royalty Network, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
Written by: Jaime Meline, Michael Santigo Render, Zack De La Rocha

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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