| Yeah |
| Uh |
| Yeah |
| Run it up, run it up, run it up |
| Run it up, run it up, run it up |
| Run it up, run it up, run it up |
| Run it up, run it up, run it up |
| Every day that I wake up, I’m just tryna get my cake up |
| Fourty-one with the face bust, bad bitch with no makeup |
| I ain’t takin' no pay cuts, gotta pay me in full |
| Ride with my young bull, when he bust your head, I’ma pay for it |
| You won’t catch me in the strip club if I ain’t throwin' no bands |
| If it’s a problem, we gon' knock you off, we ain’t throwin' no hands |
| Fifteen-hundred dollar pair of sneakers, I ain’t wearin' no Vans |
| Four-thousand dollar outfit on, I’m a grown-ass man |
| Run it up, run it up, run it up, what you gon' do with yourself? |
| I’m a boss and I’m hands-on, nigga, I don’t do good with the help |
| Got some killers that’ll come see you, nigga, and I do it myself |
| All these niggas my kids, might whoop they ass with my belt |
| Need a business, gon' run it in, I could do bad by myself |
| Never told, nigga, never will, can’t have that on my rep' |
| Five thou' on my right pocket, 'nother five thou' on my left |
| Get you killed with my cellphone, you be asked out if I text |
| Do this shit with no effort, I don’t fold under pressure |
| Two Rollies, I’m extra, that’s a crazy ass necklace |
| Back to back to back Hellcats, I don’t think these niggas get the message |
| Two hundred on the dashboard, leave you in the past like my exes |
| Run it up, run it up, run it up, what you gon' do with your life? |
| Better think about your family, pussy nigga, what they gon' do when you die? |
| Got some niggas 'bout to come home and I got some niggas doin' life |
| Sent the junkie to the corner store, told him bring back a pair of dykes |
| We just caught another box, ain’t no tellin' what’s in it |
| Fifty 'bows came vacuum sealed, I’ma bust the watch when I’m finished |
| Might just take the whole summer off, I be back in November |
| All my niggas high heels, we don’t give a fuck 'bout no temper |
| Left the club in a Trackhawk, I don’t give a fuck 'bout no Bentley |
| Pulled out about one-thirty and all the bitches came with us |
| Sippin' Wock' in a cream soda, four double cups, me and |
| I ain’t lettin' 'em stop me, nigga, I’ma still ball if I’m injured |
| Run it up, run it up, run it up, fourty-one on my wrist |
| We don’t do thirty-six, 'less you talkin' 'bout a brick |
| Callin' me, I’ma bang on you if you ain’t talkin' 'bout no chips |
| I ain’t worried 'bout sneak dissin', you ain’t really talkin' 'bout shit |
| RIP my nigga |
| , RIP my nigga |
| RIP my nigga Smurf, it ain’t been the same on these streets |
| Free my nigga Icewear, free my nigga DP |
| Small nigga with a big pistol, bust your head on GP |
| Ten thou' for a show, I ain’t comin' down on my price |
| Seventy-five hundred for a verse, nigga, you could pay me in pints |
| I ain’t playin' with y’all little niggas, I rather play with your wife |
| 40K in diamonds on, touch one, you pay with your life |
| I’m just talkin' my shit, nigga, I don’t need no hook |
| Stack on me all blue hundreds, bitch look thicker than a book |
| Postin' guns on the 'Gram, pussy nigga, you ain’t no killer, you shook |
| Whole city know you a fraud, if I see your bitch, she took |
| Fiends say the dope straight drop, nigga, Curtis seal the cook |
| All this motherfuckin' jewelery on, cost an arm, leg, and a foot |
| Get money, get money, nigga, 'cause your shorty can’t eat books |
| Signed up for this street shit right when I jumped off the porch |
| Run it up, run it up, run it up, I ain’t gon' tell you again |
| Took my charge on a ten, I ain’t tellin' on my friend |
| V12 in a S coupe, ain’t no supercharger on a Benz |
| Run with dealers and swipers, nigga, we sell dope and beans |
| Got some niggas do the phone shit, they’ll clear your line or go again |
| Got some niggas that’s still close, get your bitch fresh-ass kids |
| Got some niggas with the gift cards, help you decorate your new crib |
| I don’t knock no nigga hustle, do what you gotta do to live |
| Two pops already poured sittin' on chill in the fridge |
| Two Wraiths and a Bentley tuck, 'bout to pull up the |
| More money than a owner at a club, we don’t leave when it end |
| More money than your baby daddy, bitch, fuck you and your kids |
| Mm |
| Let the beat ride out, dav' |
| Yeah |
| (David |