​fun run lyrics

[Verse]
Small ass gun, it's a lil' ass compact gun, I can run wit' it
Uh, pus*y ass n*gga scared to come to the trench
I swear to God you gon' have fun wit' me
Lil' fast in the field everyday
I would've had my lil' ass son wit' me
All my blickys hot but I ain't finna throw 'em out
This the only thing I got
sh*t gon' hit yo' g spot, now he leakin' out
Ew he on his period
Lil' gang Tyrese Gibson
We treat whips like this sh*t Fast And Furious
f*ck boy mad I bumped down on his ho
He treat his love too serious
Oh you got racks, I'm checkin' yo' pockets
I'm checkin' yo' mirrors
Lil' gang just FaceTimed me
He came up on some sh*t, he always stealin'
Don't tell me whеn I put the blick in my hand
And see fire come from it, that's a wondеrful feeling
Lil' gang bound to do it, I'm bound to do it
Either way we at yo' head
Now you see black 'cause you said you seen red
You know I run off, you really be scared
You know I get off, I feed it all lead
I got the fye, I might beat up yo' head
Kick in yo' door now yo' people them scared
Run up in here, we got guns up in here
Come to the hood, we got guns over here
You f*ckin' wit' opps you gon' run with them
Lazer Dim always got guns with them
Don't get scared now
Pop yo' sh*t, we back on bullsh*t
Had to change my wood grain on my Draco
And I switched the mag
Draco in my drip, that's why I sag
Tryna pop sh*t while he drip, put blamer on his swag
Finna block this f*ckin' junkie, he keep callin' for these dime bags
Old heads ain't hittin' on sh*t, you already let yo' time pass
Sic that boy down with the glizzy, he runnin'
Now I tote guns, I used to be funny
Lil' buddy trippin', he swear he demonic
He won't shop [?], I want runts
Draw down on you, take yo' blunts
Trap house man, we know he gon' run
In another city, n*gga know we got guns
You ain't got fye n*gga, get out the trap
You don't want za n*gga, get out the trap
n*gga wanna post in the trap, ain't doin' no promo
Lil' boy lame as hell
This sh*t I got hit yo' noggin, now yo' head gon' swell
Beat the pack out, bag bag
n*gga said he want his guns back
n*gga DM'd me talkin' 'bout gettin' his blicks back
Hit the f*ckin' gas make everybody sit back
Bump down on me put a n*gga in a sh*t pack
Gen five gen four, I'm bringin' a mix match
Boy you a b*tch, n*gga work wit' a dispatch
Tried to get a headshot but I got six pack
[Outro]
f*ck, f*ck, hahaha
Yeah, check, crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy