How To Run lyrics

[Intro]
(Marc Boomin, this you)
Y'all n*ggas can't run with this sh*t, y'all feel me?
Ghetto Boyz sh*t
(Boomin need extras)

[Verse]
All I really wanna do is count a bunch of pape'
All I really wanna really do is bust the face
Forty-one prezi on, what the f*ck you think?
I just poured a six now, what the f*ck you drink?
My opinion, every b*tch with a big butt stink
b*tch really asked me for some pape, did the one face
How the f*ck you ain't gon' notice me? I got that one face
P left me with a pint of Wock', then I drunk eight
Dog love runnin', slow him down like when you pump brakes
I love this rap sh*t, I made sixty racks in one day
I ain't never gotta sign a dеal
We gon' get rich, you find them onе pills
I'm paying fifty-five for the orange pills
I have more clothes than the Gucci store did
f*ck her, kiss the coochie on the forehead
I f*ck hard, I done ran through four beds
So box spring on the floor it is
Double pulled up with a hundred orange heads and a four of red
I been runnin' laps around n*ggas, I'm exhausted
Still'll rap the whole beat, n*ggas thought I lost it
Where the f*ck my chain at? I thought I lost it
Bust a left on the state boys then tossed it
Get the plaque out the bust down, I gotta floss it
Break her back when I bust her down 'cause she talk sh*t
Threw ten shots at the n*gga and he caught six
The first twenty racks I ever made was off a false brick
Aw, sh*t
Glock 9 on me right now full of bald heads
Guarantee I sold you cut drank if you bought red
He ain't really strung out on the hard, he a soft head
Used to listen to what my mama say, I had a soft head
Louboutins on my feet now, so I walk red
An RP30 in me got me moving like the walking dead
Oh he snitching? Hit him with the pistol, he can't talk dead
K hit him in his leg, they replaced it with a peg
Hope I say it one more time, they can't replace the n*gga head
He actin' like he can't die, I can make the n*gga dead
High off Percs, I'm in Truth tryna break a stripper leg
Six thousand dollar outfit got me dripping wet
I just gave a b*tch nine hundred for a silhouette
Heard bro just stole your b*tch, I'ma steal her next
Baby, you ain't got to suck the di*k, just lick the head
If I like the b*tch, I'll brainf*ck her, I'ma hit her head
I'm tired of f*cking on your mama couch, you gotta get a bed
f*cked a pregnant b*tch, I think I hit a head
I f*cked her friend and she f*cked my brother, so the b*tch ahead
I just got a deuce of Morton Grove I'ma mix with red
Won't give the b*tch a dime, I'm tighter than too-little pants
I don't need a gun, I can kill you with my hands
Catch me in the summertime taking pictures with the fans
I'll hop out this 5-50 with FN
They left the back door open, I crept in
I gotta pay my b*tch bills, I feel like less a man
You'll never ever hear me say my weapon jammed
My n*gga plugged, he can get Hi-Tech in jail
n*gga, you don't sell crack, ain't no white on your scale
[Outro]
Ha
Now that's how you run on some sh*t, you know what I'm saying?
I'ma show you n*ggas how to run
Ghetto Boyz sh*t, y'all n*ggas can't f*ck with this, n*gga