Sak Runners lyrics

[Intro]
(Enrgy made this one)

[Verse 1: YSR Gramz]
Call me Big Wop, 'cause I got big grams
He told you that was Runtz, you a big ham
You ain't really winnin' with your team, you the sixth man
Bro do magic with them cards, he gon' self-scan
Bro was f*ckin' over KC, got himself banned
You was f*ckin' with a rat and got yourself jammed
He put his gun down and boxed and got himself slammed
I'm blowin' Cookie 'Woods like a f*ckin' fan
You don't listen to my songs, n*gga, you a fan
When I get my money up, I'm goin' to Japan
I'm just tryna take a trip to Cali, f*ck her in the sand
n*gga want a verse from YSR, man, I need a band
She wanna suck my ding-ding, pull it out my pants
n*gga think I'm broke 'cause of what? 'Cause I got on Vans?
Got a gun, but won't shoot that b*tch like you ain't got no hands
Fat boy, I really like to eat lamb chops and yams
Man, this world f*cked up, you gotta watch your fam
Naw, this world really f*cked up, you gotta watch your mans
Put your trust in runt-runt and she just got rammed
I'm tryna run my money up and go and drop a Ram

[Verse 2: Driveway Baby]
I can get it off a bag, ain't gotta do no scams
I can get them P's in, get it all off grams
n*gga tried to shake my hand, I am not your fam
n*gga tried to shoot an AR, but that b*tch got jammed
Was f*ckin' the cards heavy, it's time to switch it up
These n*ggas hate me 'round this b*tch, but I don't give a f*ck
Ho wanna be my b*tch, I don't wanna cuff
I'm tryna get ahead, b*tch, I'm tryna run it up
You should've known my resume, b*tch, I just wanna f*ck
Be my lil' driver on the side, b*tch, be my duck
We can f*ck on the side, I can be in your guts
Yung Sak Runners, b*tch, we finna f*ck the summer up
My stepdad mad at me, I f*cked his Hummer up
Hit a b*tch pus*y hard, her sh*t numbin' up
My n*gga used to hoop good, but he f*cked his jumper up
Your b*tch fat as hell, she gotta lift her stomach up
My b*tch mad at me, said she ain't feelin' me
Hit her with my ding-dong, said, "It's killin' me"
She don't like backshots, said, "You be drillin' me"
I just want the money, you ain't gotta be no friend to me
[Verse 3: YSR Gramz]
I just dropped a three up in my pop, this ain't Hennessy
Bro smacked every Target in Tennessee
I got another hundred sale, meet me on Witherbee
We ain't get to kill that lil' n*gga, but we injured him

[Verse 4: Driveway Baby]
I got these Gucci runners, b*tch, they made from Italy
Bro just gurbed a white b*tch, her name was Emily
Man, these n*ggas copycats, they just mimic me
Quavis just sold some top-shelf Cookie on Civic Street