Run It Lyrics by clipping.
Get the work and get the work and get the work
Get the work and get the work and get the work
And put it in the pot
Mix the mothafucka till it rock
Roll it till 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 up by the bar (by the bar)
She bring the cash
Catch a mothafuckin’ star (fuckin’ star)
Pay the tab
Pop another purple pack (purple pack)
Slow it down enough
So you can get the world back (world back)
Pussy in the air
Pussy popping 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 into the club, it make the—
Jawbone, 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
Panic before the cum
Damnit, wanna be numb
Skin is itching, you sittin’ bitch in the backseat
Till the switch flip and you 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 an itchy trigger finger (trigger finger)
Gotta go
Pablo got a couple stingers (couple stingers)
Hit a dab
That’ll get you straight again (straight again)
Get a cab
Didn’t mean to wake up in the—
Same clothes you been rocking
For a mothafuckin’ week
Don’t let nobody get it twisted
You are not a fuckin’ tweaker
Look this shit designer
Cook up in a beaker
Look this shit designer
Gucci on the sneaker
Jawbone, 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
Etching you in the thoughts
Of every new city cop
The ingénue was a opp
Skin is itching, you just bitch with a bounty
Till the switch flip and you suckin’ dick in the county
Aluminum in between the teeth
Mean you prolly gotta 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 he need to run it
Don’t it feel like god to you?
Who’s yo 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)
Got a rush
Got a water bottle ready (bottle ready)
Got a pill
Drop it in and shake it, shake it
Shake that shit ’round
You all the way up and
They thinking they down (they down)
Leave the club
Looking for that real shit (real shit)
Grab a dub
Can you catch the feeling, it’s the—
Jawbone, 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 running red
Must have been nearly dead
Then they came for the bread
Skin is itching, you twitching writing a bad check
Till the switch flip and you end up taking your last breath
Bloody on the inside of the lip
Bite it every minute till it split
Let the drip fall slowly to the floor
Until there isn’t any more and you know that you need to run it