Get Low

(Great John on the beat, by the way)
Yeah, I get the bag and run it up (run it up)
Yeah, I get the bag and run it up (I get the bag and run it up)
Yeah, I get the bag and run it up, yeah (I run it up)

I get the bag and run it up (run it up)
You gotta be Special Ed, thinkin' 'bout runnin' up
We make it hot, look like the sun is up (look like the sun is up)
Right by the Tommy's, that's where the gun is tucked (that's where the gun is tucked)
Damn, pull out your gun, then you better blow
Bro off a pill when he do a drill
So when he get high, you better get low

Know we make it hot, summer
Lil' bitch, I'm the shit, plumber
Back out the stick, make it beat like a drummer
I ain't lyin', I keep it a hunna
My shooters be sliding, you die if you run up
I pull up, put a bag on your brother
That nigga still hot and I know he a chucker
Can't respect him, can't wait 'til we catch him

Tell broski to wet him, spread bullets like butter
Fuck the plug, he ain't gettin' no money
Bitch gon' fuck 'cause I came from the gutter
She heard I be trappin', I made her my sucker
They ain't with it, I know that they cappin'
My gang get to clappin', they runnin' for cover
Yeah, they runnin' for cover, uh
Yeah, they runnin' for cover, uh

I get the bag and run it up (run it up)
You gotta be Special Ed, thinkin' 'bout runnin' up
We make it hot, look like the sun is up (look like the sun is up)
Right by the Tommy's, that's where the gun is tucked (that's where the gun is tucked)
Damn, pull out your gun, then you better blow
Bro off a pill when he do a drill
So when he get high, you better get low

Look, please don't play with the bros
I promise they see you, they doin' the most
Look, can't hit no lick and go ghost
I ride with my brothers, we splittin' the toast
Back 'em down, I'm like Shaq in the post
Yeah, I could do it, don't need nobody close
Is you ridin', you ready to go?
You say you bangin', better buy you a pole

Strapped up, ain't no leavin' it home
Don't act up, we put one in your dome
Get clapped up, now your name on a stone
Throw racks up, watching bitches unfold
Since a youngin, we was all buggin'
Tryna make the block hot when it's cold, yeah
(Tryna make the block hot when it's cold)

I get the bag and run it up (run it up)
You gotta be Special Ed, thinkin' 'bout runnin' up
We make it hot, look like the sun is up (look like the sun is up)
Right by the Tommy's, that's where the gun is tucked (that's where the gun is tucked)
Damn, pull out your gun, then you better blow
Bro off a pill when he do a drill
So when he get high, you better get low



Credits
Writer(s): Andre Romell Young, Michael A. Elizondo Jr., Dawaun W. Parker, Stanley Bernard Benton, Todd Daniel Moore
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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