Runtz / Oh My

YPB: The Archive
YPB, bap, whoosh
(F12)
Kweng-Kwengface, baby
(Ayoludo)
(Scratch mixed it)

We all know about tri-trips (brr, brr)
That's why the feds try do me for - (allow it)
The judge said "Yuck" on my previous
Huh, I'm so mischievous (mad)
When I jumped out the ride and I cheffed up -
On my life, try do him up grievous (di-di-di-di-di-di-di-dip)
I might jump on a flight to Greece with a sweet one (whoosh)
Do a quick destress
I'm a stepper whatever when I step in my hood
Got my strap and my wetter (for sure)

Put duct tape on the hand ting, can't even lie
Got no time for no leather (that's long cuz')
AMG on a Merc
Two-litre and the seats come leather (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
The feds done said that I'm clever
'Cah I ain't snappin' my daily endeavours
I ain't no number two
But I'm bringing that heat like my name's Endeavor
On the strip with my hand ting, leave a man plankin'
Tell an old friend "Don't mess up" (don't mess up)

Step on the strip, man's lettin' it rip
I swear that it's nuttin' but pressure
Real trap boy (brr), come to my bando, ten racks under the dresser
Look, gettin' nicked so much
I'm startin' to think that my house is bugged (woof)
Been in the cell for like 24 hours
Got bail and I swear on my life, I'm chuffed
Nuts, the life that I live is nuts
Bro-bro still tryna turn him to runtz (bap)
Don't lack on the block you dunce

When I slapped it, can't lie, man jump
Groupie seein' me on stage just shellin' it (woof)
Now, she thinks that I'm gone clear
Spent a two-and-a-half on this beater
Spent a Rack5 on my sweet one's Moncler (ay, come 'ere)
Thick thighs, bubble butt, long hair (oi)
I swear I got caught with my ex-ting, long
Huh, I shouldn't have gone there (ah, 'llow it-'low it)

Bought me a new gun (a new gun)
Huh, lovely (lovely)
This hand ting I got it from - (whoosh)
This ting tryna say that she loves me, huh
You ain't tryna hold this pumpy (no)
Ain't gonna stop 'til my head-back's comfy
Three-hundred racks for a tape, that's lovely (oi)
I heard yutes tryna come to my mum's
I sleep with a ting, I'll blow off your Humpty (bap)

I just cash me a lil' cheque, twenty-six racks
Can't lie, I bought me a big wap (a big)
This see-through clip holds twenty
Sense it and get slapped by the big bap (grr, grr, grr, grr)
You could still get done by my flick-shank, dip that
If I flip that, man wig 'dat (di-di-dip)
Ying man down 'til there's nothin' but blood (splash, splash)
Turn man to a Crip akh (splash, splash)

Look, my hoodie and kicks sejour (sejour)
If I stab from here and adjust my aim (grap)
I'll hit him from far for I'm sure (grap, bap)
I'm fuckin' bored
Now, me and Soaker doin' up opp block tours
You might see us in a buss-down whip, but it's fuckin' shored
This ain't beef, it's fuckin' war

(Is that Nick French?)
Bap
Man's all hungover and shit
Fuckin' hell, look

Blood on my hands and blood on my kicks (aye, aye)
Pissed, now, I gotta burn this drip
Heard that them man's fuckin' with them man, cheers (woof)
Now, I gotta burn this bridge
Louis Vuitton, my swine
Oof, I'm takin' the piss (mad)
Run through bands and I run through chicks
Cheffed up my man quick with the flicks
Ching man down with my left hand
Might have to switch to my right hand quickly (di-di-dip)

Man's been a piece of shit since thirteen (woof)
But my mum wanted to ship me (hehehe)
Can't lie, I just ran through fifty
Different breed, so the boys don't mix me (no way)
One time, I cop me a dots (grr, grr, grr)
Old and long, I got that from a Gypsy (bap, bap)
Look, can't be chattin' to me
Back out the wap, watch a man get deceased (bap, bap)
Still ring trap with a packets of grease (woof)
OT for a month, now, the racky's on me (brr, brr)

Rack on my feet, got a rack on my tee
Got a like twenty stacks on my sleeve
Rack on my feet, got a rack on my tee
Got a like twenty stacks on my—
Wooly on wooly, man's lurkin'
If me and bro step, get him down for certain (get him down)
Who's that yute in a tracksuit?
Just for that look, man I injure that person (woo)
Look, I was in the States last week, and now, I'm in Ghana workin'
You ain't no fuckin' bad boy, you're an internet person (you're lyin')

Look, oh my (oh my)
GBlato, I'm fried (fried)
Look, big retta on a glide (glide)
Suttin', suttin' got dead up tonight (tonight)
Smokin' up bonno
Bro, I'm just high as a kite (I'm high)
GBlato, I'm fried (I'm high)
GBlato, I'm, look (I'm high)
I'm high off Incogla' (loud)
I'm high off SA too (I'm high)

Fuckboy got chinged up properly, pissed (di-di-dip)
He didn't get turned to a zoot (aye, aye)
Right now, I'm just smokin' on Migo (woof, woof)
Kennington Bop while I bill this zoot (fresh, fresh)
Right now all dem man 'dere prerolls
How you want that? In the rolls or blue?



Credits
Writer(s): F12, Kwengface, Ludo Beats, Nick French
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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