Store Run

G's, yeah, yeah
QB, AQ, Ravenswood, Woodside, let's go (Hit-Boy)

My thumb struck a lot of lighters, pulled a lot of all-nighters
Banned from some afterhours spots
My crew would choose violence, move in silence
Who knew I'd grew to build an empire?
Streets had me against the ropes, would've thought I was ziplining

TECs in the dresser, money off tech, pushing a Tesla
Rolled up a fresh one, it's one IPO to the next one
Rich from corporate or thuggin', expensive mistakes
It's all a racket, it's the same thing, just the risk that you take

Moving too fast, blues on your ass
The boys came through with the task
Peep through the blinds, you knew it was curtains
Breadwinner take a L, leave the whole family hurting
Seen it a million times, system washed him out with the verdict

So I'm clean as a whistle, drinking premium liquor
In-between two Argentinian sisters
They counting up for me until their fingers get blisters
What I blew that on? I cannot seem to remember

It's not even bragging
(I like that)
It's okay, it's gon' be okay
Flyest nigga in this rap shit

Yo, as I'm looking at the New York skyline
Reminiscing on nighttime, shootouts with my guys
Pouring this white wine, you could Richard Millie your left wrist
Keep in perspective, we on God's time (the world is yours)

What happens when dealers reduce to addicts?
What happens when kings don't see their potential status?
What's your exit plan? Face to face with my omens, I never ran
Stood on stages most never can, pyrotechnics and leather pants

Shifting the culture
Mention me with Mick Jagger and Bono like you're 'posed to
I'm standing next to rookies, somehow they looking older
The altitude of matter so cold, it'll make your nose run
How you expect to get love if you don't show none?
I should send you little niggas on a store run
How we're moving is no cut
I'm from the era of razor blades and coke dust
People living with no trust, champagne in the soap suds

So I'm clean as a whistle, drinking premium liquor
In-between two Argentinian sisters
They counting up for me until their fingers get blisters
What I blew that on? I cannot seem to remember
The world is yours

Scarface, Tony Montana shit
It's yours, yours, yours
R.I.P. Ecstasy from Whodini
DMX, Prince Markie Dee, Shock G
Real rap gods, do you know the meaning?
All the rap brothers we lost this year, and last year
Ayo, check it out
Run to the store for me, man
Get me veggie chips, blunts and a bottle
You got this shit all twisted, man
It's about rank, you ain't there yet
Think you gon' send me to the store? I own the store, man
I'm just testing you

I got the hood playing golf, wild boss style
Crucifixes over the Chrome Hearts, you get crossed out
People battered down, Asian hate getting passed around
Tiger happy, both his parents' lives matter now
Marble floors is my common law, we company builders
I inspired those who inspired you to run up millions
Not perfect, persistent, keep it more pure than the purest
I do this for the 'jects and them good-hearted jurors



Credits
Writer(s): Nasir Jones, Richard Botts, James Spencer, Douglas Brown, Chauncey Alexander Hollis, Jawuan Damariel Wilson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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