Run lyrics

by

KXNG Crooked


[Intro]
Swifty McVay: Got him, in the scope
Person 2: Man hit this n*gga man
Swifty McVay: Damn n*gga. Stand still motherf*cker
Person 2: Man go ahead hit that n*gga, come on we gotta get the f*ck on
Swifty McVay: The leaves in the way
Person 2: What?
Swifty McVay: Shut up n*gga I got this
Person 2: Hit that n*gga
Swifty McVay: I'm 'bout to hit him. I got him
*Gun c*cks*
*Bang*

Run...

[Verse 1: Swifty McVay]
Duct tape her, put the video tape and rape her
And f*ck favors, I'm a criminal with a major
Disruptive membrane that's never letting go of the beef
I'm no stranger, streets paid with blood stains
I strangler her loose, wrangle a jump suit
Machete and leather boots
I'm severing whatever n*gga sold you crack
And told you to expose your scrotum to these whores and you click-clack, remember that
[?] the pain, have you n*ggas ducking like the hunchback of Notre-Dame
f*ckers ain't gon' say a thing
Huggin a burner, you acting like you trying to murder
Like a marine that's never been overseas
I heard the n*ggas like you
I can turn your city against any n*gga willing to send me an invite
Whoever double-cross me
Then already walked across my first line
So its dandelions and curse time
[Hook]
Run
It’s a n*gga running behind you, you better hopin' for he don't find you, you know you better
Run
Hearing them bullets whistlin' by you
You see the red dots are around you, you know you better
Run
Those n*ggas really trying to kill you, you better hopin' for he won't kill you, you know you better
Run

[Verse 2: Kuniva]
Black gloves, black hat, black hoodie,black gat
Flashlight attached to [?] where the clap at
n*gga, get your [?] on, my [?] on
Bullets leave the group, let 'em get a solo *gunshot*
[?], head on the council, pick the lock, backdoor, dead the whole household
You want murder? Take a flight out here (c'mon)
When the hammer sparks, you gon' get a bright idea (c'mon)
You better *gunshot* the other way, before I (Run) to the car
When you (Run) start playin', you don't (Run) to Bizarre (Yeah)
I leave a n*gga slomp, a pistol grip will make your adrenaline pump (sh*t)
I blow your clothes backwards, criss-cross your ass
Make your whole body jump (jump) (jump)
This is gangsta sh*t like a John Gotti dump
People that's been shot before, they keep tellin' you that sh*t ain't fun (fun) (fun)
If you get the chance, yo you better
[Hook]
Run
It’s a n*gga running behind you, you better hopin' for he don't find you, you know you better
Run
Hearing them bullets whistlin' by you
You see the red dots are around you, you know you better
Run
Those n*ggas really trying to kill you, you better hopin' for he won't kill you, you know you better
Run
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