| If you love my niggas
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| I’m saying but, if you only love my niggas
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| We can make this run, for my niggas
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| And if you die, hope you’ll fly high
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| (Don't worry baby, I’ll make this money for you)
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| Make me an offer I can’t refuse, pistol is wild
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| Pretty face, no mask, undeniably fit for the job
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| Bitch wit a heart, ready to thump, money is king
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| Wit my lap on the throne strokin' a cat, runnin' a scheme
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| My niggas get high off the reefer, and quick to heat ya
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| If ya feel ya cold-blooded, I got something to heat ya
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| It’s called a hollow tip, dum, dum, follow clip and numb some
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| If you don’t know the language, then don’t speak the gun dun
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| Eyes like black chips of glass, little wit an unholy light
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| Ya chances of survival, like a roll of these dice
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| Execution style, ski-mask, no smile
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| Throw the ace, in the hidden safe, up under the towel
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| + (La Femme Nakita)
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| We definitely blow, stick wit me, know ya limitations
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| Speak when spoke up, stay away from the rest of these hoes
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| You ready to kill (No doubt) these niggas is jerks
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| Broke niggas wit cheap guns, and triggers that work
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| If ya pops share my, cli-ker, carry street sweepers
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| And hit ya more times than the worthless bitch, on ya beeper
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| Revenge is that bitch, and she won’t come lesser than
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| So if ya hit me, God’ll get me and give me breath again, bitch, get it right
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| w/ (Pharrel ad-libs)
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| Niggas wanna see me lying hurt, wanna stain my Hawaiian shirt
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| Cause I put it out, they supplying dirt
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| Two German Black bitches, begging y’all to try and flirt
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| Rude and twins, and all they rock is iron skirts
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| My bitches got mo’s of alley cats, armed wit steel bats
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| And mo’s is stealing stacks, double back, and tally that
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| When shit go down, don’t expect me to run
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| Never forget dun, two guns, is better than one
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| This money is golden, low and behold, blowing holes
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| Through what I’m standing in front of you holding, niggas know
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| Trench coats in Detroit summers, you gotta mean nigga
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| Wit long guns, you gon' run nigga, run
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| If I die nigga, slit my back so my wings can come out
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| And fly nigga, sky high nigga, age is my gun
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| If I keep fuckin' her, I might die wit her
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| If you shoot me and my wings come out, then that’s a fly stitcher
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| Stay on ya toes, I got diamonds to watch, frukit niggas
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| I took it ol' school, got the 5−9 in the box
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| Dog, let me catch a nigga eyeing my watch
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| What I’m firing’s hot, just aim, and rely on the dot
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| Fifty karat link-link, mad cause ya lead kink
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| Me and my bitch is frozen, regardless to her pink mink
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| Freeze ya eyeballs, you don’t want a part of that
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| Cardiovascular, VVS heart attack
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| Would you blast for me, put up the cash for me
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| Out in the world dodging bullets, become a casualty
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| For ten bricks shit, twenty-four furs, and ten whips
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| I flip and sends shit, through bitches appen-dix
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| For my beach fifty grand, I’m laughing at that advance
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| I spent that at Dolce, on shirts, shades, and leather pants
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| Million dollar deals, Lord I’m scared my life’s changing
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| Cupid’s cousin, money keeping shooting, wit nice aimin'
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| It’s no sane, this drug game, flourished, niggas transform
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| And hide into courage, but they blows be malnourished
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| Let’s see who get the furbus, bag annoys ass nigga
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| Extra, like you surplus
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| + (Royce + Pharrell + La Femme Nakita)
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| Huh, I come dirt, anyone under one-thirty, ya slapped
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| Ain’t even gun worthy, fuck yo niggas
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| I’m the king of this shit, thuggin, let’s get these moneys
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| And make niggas dearly beloved (I love my niggas) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Make This Run , by - Royce 5'9. Song from the album Build & Destroy, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп