Run It

Get the work in, get the work in, get the work in
Get the work in, get the work in

Get the work in, put it in the pot
Mix the motherfucker 'til it rot
Roll it 'til it fit into the needle
Then you stick it in the middle of the hood
And watch 'em run it

Got a bag, got a bitch by the bar (by the bar)
She bring the cash, catch a motherfuckin' star (fuckin' star)
Pay the tab, pop another purple pack (purple pack)
Slow it down enough
So you can get the whirl back (whirl back)
Pussy in the air, pussy poppin' on the floor (on the floor)
Elevator up to 27, there she go (there she go)
Two inside, two more say they on the way (on the way)
Back to back, back up in the club to make the

Jaw bone sore from the teeth grind
Got too fast for the rewind
Have to put it back piece by piece by
Please mind the gap behind the black sheets

Find sprinkles of sanity for the gums
Vanity for the tongue, canopy for the cum
Damn it, wanna be dumb
Skin is itchin', you sittin' bitch in the back seat
'Til the switch flip and you're spillin' spit on the concrete

Pill under the tongue and let it melt
Catch the feeling for a minute by yourself
When it's needles on the bottom of your feet
You know the shit done made it down into the blood
And you can run it

Got a Jones, got a itchy trigger finger (trigger finger)
Gotta go, Pablo got a couple stingers (couple stingers)
Get a dab, let it get you straight again (straight again)
Get a cab, didn't mean to wake up in the same clothes
You been rockin' for a motherfuckin' week
Don't let nobody get it twisted, you are not a fucking tweaker
Put the shit designer, cook up in the beaker
Put the shit designer, Gucci on the sneaker

Jaw bone sore from the teeth grind
Got too fast for the rewind
Have to put it back piece by piece by
Please mind the gap behind the black sheets

Find traces of residue in the pots
Etchin' you in the thoughts of every new city cop
The ingenue was an opp
Skin is itchin', you just a bitch with a bounty
'Til the switch flip and you suckin' dick in the county

Aluminum in between the teeth
Mean you probably got to get up out the street
Get your connect on the phone and let him know
You got the paper in your pocket for him
And you need to run it

Don-, don-, don-, don-, don-
Don't it feel like god to you?
Who's your daddy? Can he buy you what you want?
This is what you want
Don't it feel like god to you?
Put that up inside, run it up inside
Run it, get your life

Got a deal, said they got a VIP (VIP)
Got a vibe, never had to show ID (show ID)
Gotta rush, got a water bottle ready (water bottle ready)
Got a pill, drop and then shake it (shake it)
Shake it (shake it), shake that shit round
You all the way up and they thinkin' they down (thinkin' they down)
Leave the club lookin' for that real shit (real shit)
Grab a dub, can you catch the feeling? It's the

Jaw bone sore from the teeth grind
Got too fast for the rewind
Have to put it back piece by piece by
Please mind the gap behind the black sheets

Find remnants of something inside your head
Rusting and runnin' red, must've been nearly dead
Then they came for the bread
Skin is itchin' and twitchin', running a fat check
'Til the switch flip and you end up takin' your last breath

Bloody on the inside of the lip
Bite it every minute 'til it split
Let the drip fall slowly to the floor
Until there isn't anymore
And you know that you need to run it



Credits
Writer(s): Daveed Diggs, Jonathan Snipes, William Hutson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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