Lyrics:
1. I’m running shit call it the getaway
2. I Wake up in the morning I give my glory and say my praise
3. Varsity...11th Grade they wouldn’t let me
got y'all wifi saved
You paying a pound so I can go chill with your bitch, ain't shit to say
Said boy you a clown, I got your bitch red nosing just by
a boy with your name
Saw someone drive by in your car
Look for you even when I know you're far
And I know if it weren't for you, 4runners wouldn't change
still in the dope spot
Why the fuck you think I pull up in a dope car
Gold shoes stepping out with a dope bitch cartel
So she gotta suck four dicks I d
a nigga four times like a nigga Stunna
Fucked a lil bad bitch, Swear to God she a runner
Gotta big G-Lock and it gotta lot of kick
Swear to God I ain't gay
Ay yo
Wait for the drop then I four the bitch
Burner only do message no calls on it
Straight to the voice and I forward it
Cali drought, never I
In the booth with this shit on me
Bag plays steady calling
That's a whole lot of money
Shit be coming by the bundle
Young nigga top runner
Big 4 I'm
sister, I'm a sunder in the runner
I don't give a damn about it, but I make niggas with the tunner
I got money in the jungle, tryina buy my kids Christmas
runner
And you know that I keep this shit four hundred
Like how could I lack I got poles on me
Like how could I stress I got hoes on me
We left that boy
butter breath George Washington Carver
Po up a 4 now my soda got darker
Yo trap rollin' my trap rollin' harder
I'm ballin' you still on the bench I'm
could pop you and jet without a getaway car
And some might say that he's a dummy
But he's sticking you and taking all your money
It's a daily operation
could pop you and jet without a getaway car
And some might say that he's a dummy
But he's sticking you and taking all your money
It's a daily operation
Ronny J, listen up it's WarBucks, bitches
Call my homie up
Pick him up in the pickup truck
Four in the mornin'
On top of that it started stormin'
Hahaha (if Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you)
Yeah, yeah
Watch on my wrist is a car lot (let's go)
Lamb' truck talkin', it's
me, crazy
So I live by two words, "Fuck you, pay me"
Screaming, "Jesus, save me"
You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me
'Cause
could pop you and jet without a getaway car
And some might say that he's a dummy
But he's sticking you and taking all your money
It's a daily operation
(Great John on the beat by the way)
I was on tour for four months we was overseas (Greenlight Gang)
Did fifty-five shows in forty-five countries (woah)
be back by the summer
Outside, won't be in for supper
I told her, "Eat me," now she a sucker
My outfit cost me a fours of Yola, could've put that
snatched
I can do it by myself, I go do it by myself
You won't do it by yo' self, put a nigga on a shelf
Put a nigga on a rack
It ain't nun to go
(X10)
You ever been banned up by the seaside listening to NPR?
Case papers in this tiny desk, not the one from NPR (uh)
I probably know that
me, crazy
So I live by two words, "Fuck you, pay me"
Screaming, "Jesus, save me"
You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me
'Cause
really like this car bro
Ay you know I got it by all means
Naw what's that
That's a quick fish
So this car, the Opel cadet 200is was like a fast car in
monks
The ole man with the fruit stand is on his man
His hand, his ole heart just can't stand
The CPR as they load him in the back of a car
I'm
Even marathon runners need to nap
He said he'd have a heart attack
If he didn't lay down
The years went by and he settled down
His house is
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