letra de how to run - rio da yung og
marc boomin
[intro]
y’all n-ggas can’t run with this sh-t, y’all feel me?
ghetto boyz sh-t
[verse]
all i really wanna do is count a bunch of pape
all i really wanna really do is bust the face
41 prezi on, what the f-ck you think
i just poured a 6 now, what the f-ck you drink
my opinion, every b-tch with a big b-tt stink
b-tch really asked me for some pape, did the one face
how the f-ck you ain’t gon’ notice me, i got that one face
yves left me with a pint of wock’ and i drunk eight
dog love runtz slow him down, like when you pump brakes
i love this rap sh-t, i made 60 racks in one day
i ain’t never gotta sign a deal
we gon’ gеt rich, you find them one pills
i’m paying 55 for the orangе pills
i have more clothes than the gucci store did
f-ck her, kiss the coochie on the forehead
i f-ck hard, i done ran through 4 beds
so box spring on the floor it is
double pulled up with a hundred orange heads and a 4 of red
i been running laps around n-ggas, i’m exhausted
still’ll rap the whole beat, n-ggas thought i lost it
where the f-ck my chain at? i thought i lost it
bust a left on the state boys then tossed it
get the plaque out the buss down, i gotta floss it
break her back when i buss her down cause she talk sh-t
threw 10 shots at them n-ggas and we caught 6
the first 20 racks i ever made was off a false brick
aw sh-t
glock 9 on me right now full of bald heads
guarantee i sold you cut drank if you bought red
he ain’t really strung out on the hard, he a soft head
used to listen to what my mama say, i had a soft head
louboutins on my feet now, so i walk red
a rp30 in me got me moving like the walking dead
oh he snitching? hit him with the pistol, he can’t talk dead
k hit him in his leg, they replaced it with a peg
hope i say it one more time, they can’t replace the n-gga head
he acting like he can’t die, i can make the n-gga dead
high off percs, i’m in truth tryna break a stripper leg
6,000 dollar outfit got me dripping wet
i just gave a b-tch 900 for a silhouette
heard bro just stole your b-tch, i’ma steal her neck
baby you ain’t got to suck the d-ck, just l!ck the head
if i like the b-tch i’ll brainf-ck her, i’ma hit her head
tired of f-cking on your mama couch, you gotta get a bed
f-cked a pregnant b-tch, i think i hit a head
i f-cked her friend and she f-cked my brother so the b-tch ahead
i just got a deuce of morton grove i’ma mix with red
won’t give a b-tch a dime, i’m tighter than two little pants
i don’t need a gun, i can k!ll you with my hands
catch me in the summertime taking pictures with the fans
i hop out this 5-50 with fn
they left the back door open, i crept in
i gotta pay my b-tch bills, i feel like less a man
you’ll never ever hear me say my weapon jammed
my n-gga plugged, he can get hi-tech in jail
n-gga you don’t sell crack, ain’t no white on your scale
[outro]
ha!
now that’s how you run on some sh-t, you know what i’m saying
i’ma show you n-ggas how to run
ghetto boyz sh-t, y’all n-ggas can’t f-ck with this
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