Run, Run, Run (feat. Billy Sk33t)
Ain't gotta tell you where I'm from
You should know it by the accent
Steady dodgin' police
Chevy with the black tints
Schooled by the OGs
I done took some lashes
Ain't nothing guaranteed
Except death coming and taxes
Already told you
I'm sick of livin' it average
This a one way ticket
From the cradle to the casket
Don't believe me
You could ask it!
Where I'm from
They're known to start shootin' like Steve Nash
Whether black or you white
You can get it the same here
41 shots
I hope you put on ya rain gear
With a bad chick smokin' cubans and layin' here
Plus she know magic; pull out the D n make it disappear!
You know the deal,
Blue and Red; and that Yellow too
Plain clothes cops mean
You better know who you sellin' to
Either step up homie
or you gettin' stepped thru
One things for sure
I'm make sure that I never lose!
Murder, murder, murder, run, run, run
Lord don't let them catch me with the gun!
No I ain't no killer but I never been a punk
Swear to God these streets about to turn me into one!
Murder, murder, murder, run, run, run
Lord don't let them catch me with the gun!
No I ain't no killer but I never been a punk
Swear to God these streets about to turn me into one!
9 strapped, weed crumbles on the dash
open the vault stuff jeans run like the flash
Snag a couple racks packed pocket g's like 50
Make it count cause it's the last we'll ever see the city
M4A1 bullets moving quick, tear right through em
If they pulling up on me and Benni, ha, I'ma shoot em
Rolex Patek, AR automatic
Making posers dance like a ballet acrobatic
Dudes they be asking hey billy what that blick do
They girls they be asking hey billy what that stick do
I tell em, and tell them to me on the DMs
Dudes angered with Kia key shank im gonna key em
We pull up to the safe hop out of the wraith
Blacked out, ski mask drinking gin now we faced
Bank tellers hands up in the sky white scared look on his face
Pop some caps in yo chest, boy you better have faith
Murder, murder, murder, run, run, run
Lord don't let them catch me with the gun!
No I ain't no killer but I never been a punk
Swear to God these streets about to turn me into one!
Murder, murder, murder, run, run, run
Lord don't let them catch me with the gun!
No I ain't no killer but I never been a punk
Swear to God these streets about to turn me into one!
You should know it by the accent
Steady dodgin' police
Chevy with the black tints
Schooled by the OGs
I done took some lashes
Ain't nothing guaranteed
Except death coming and taxes
Already told you
I'm sick of livin' it average
This a one way ticket
From the cradle to the casket
Don't believe me
You could ask it!
Where I'm from
They're known to start shootin' like Steve Nash
Whether black or you white
You can get it the same here
41 shots
I hope you put on ya rain gear
With a bad chick smokin' cubans and layin' here
Plus she know magic; pull out the D n make it disappear!
You know the deal,
Blue and Red; and that Yellow too
Plain clothes cops mean
You better know who you sellin' to
Either step up homie
or you gettin' stepped thru
One things for sure
I'm make sure that I never lose!
Murder, murder, murder, run, run, run
Lord don't let them catch me with the gun!
No I ain't no killer but I never been a punk
Swear to God these streets about to turn me into one!
Murder, murder, murder, run, run, run
Lord don't let them catch me with the gun!
No I ain't no killer but I never been a punk
Swear to God these streets about to turn me into one!
9 strapped, weed crumbles on the dash
open the vault stuff jeans run like the flash
Snag a couple racks packed pocket g's like 50
Make it count cause it's the last we'll ever see the city
M4A1 bullets moving quick, tear right through em
If they pulling up on me and Benni, ha, I'ma shoot em
Rolex Patek, AR automatic
Making posers dance like a ballet acrobatic
Dudes they be asking hey billy what that blick do
They girls they be asking hey billy what that stick do
I tell em, and tell them to me on the DMs
Dudes angered with Kia key shank im gonna key em
We pull up to the safe hop out of the wraith
Blacked out, ski mask drinking gin now we faced
Bank tellers hands up in the sky white scared look on his face
Pop some caps in yo chest, boy you better have faith
Murder, murder, murder, run, run, run
Lord don't let them catch me with the gun!
No I ain't no killer but I never been a punk
Swear to God these streets about to turn me into one!
Murder, murder, murder, run, run, run
Lord don't let them catch me with the gun!
No I ain't no killer but I never been a punk
Swear to God these streets about to turn me into one!
Credits
Writer(s): Reuben Gonzalez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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