Runnin’ lyrics

[Verse 1]
I was born ready
I'm working your man up in that circuit
b*tch, I planned to look that perfect
Cheap little brand, but a b*tch that certain
Clip that gan-ja, split that curtain
He wanna slam, wanna whip that serpent
He wanna wam, wanna get it in, wanna get it up
Wanna split it and wanna lick it up
But your n*gga been listenin' to rough's
Now your n*ggas on the internet enough
So he think he know the di*kens and the -what
Damn, motherf*cker, you be sniffing in the butt
You a fan, little n*gga, you be living for the c*nt
You be handful of scrilla while I'm jiggling the buns
I can stop moving still jiggling the buns
I can pop in the middle with a did up in the bun
Let it drop for ya n*gga when he get up in the front
I could spot which n*ggas got the get-up's and the funds
But I'm not these b*tches with the di*k up on their tongues
Not these b*tches all these n*ggas been among
So it's not with me with 'em when your n*gga in the crumbs
And it's not me chilling with your n*gga in the slums
Don't ru-run with 'em, never with 'em in the sun, huh

I'ma sp-spend this n*ggas sp-spinach
I tell him to eat the couchie then hit this n*gga for lyrics
He know that I got that juicy
That juicy booty, that fruity, that fruity tootie
That natural beauty, he rich; he poppin' that bougie
I got that Glock and that uzi, that ch-ch-chop and the tuni
I hit your block with a goonie and put a dot on ya nugget
Split ya top and ya stomach, hit ya pops and ya cousin
Miss the shot if he runnin' and get as hot as he want it
[Chorus]
You, you don't want
I know you, you don't wanna f*ck with me
You on one, I'm on two
Bang or get banged on, you choose
These n*ggas runnin, these n*ggas runnin
They stay pumpin' that game but these n*ggas frontin'
All beige up on this stage, oh, these n*ggas stuntin'
So these b*tches comin', now these n*ggas runnin
Runnin', n*ggas runnin', n*ggas runnin'
These n*ggas runnin', these n*ggas runnin'
These n*ggas runnin', these n*ggas runnin'
These n*ggas runnin', these n*ggas runnin'

[Verse 2]
I'm in the creme Coupe seats, color: gingerbread
You know I got that b*tch covered like a ninja head
You say you 'bout to get buttered, 'bout to spend your bread
So you 'bout to get smothered with that infrared
Bet that strawberry banana f-fanna click never jam-a
I'm finna damage your armor and plan to blam at your grandma
These n*ggas totin' they hammer but really open punanas
I smell these n*ggas, they pus*y they pus*y they needa douche it
Don't let him up in the cushion 'less he come with the right dues
If not, then b*tch you better f*ck you a white dude
If not, then b*tch he better come with the right di*k
If not, then b*tch you probably know that he like di*k
f*ck feeding these n*ggas, you b*tches breeding these n*ggas?
I get the beats from these n*ggas then hit the streets with these n*ggas
Y'all tryna sleep with these n*ggas, I'm tryna eat with these n*ggas
I read these n*ggas the script and get sick of seeing these n*ggas now
[Chorus]
You, you don't want
I know you, you don't wanna f*ck with me
You on one, I'm on two
Bang or get banged on, you choose
These n*ggas runnin, these n*ggas runnin
They stay pumpin' that game but these n*ggas frontin'
All beige up on this stage, oh, these n*ggas stuntin'
So these b*tches comin', now these n*ggas runnin
Runnin', n*ggas runnin', n*ggas runnin'
These n*ggas runnin', these n*ggas runnin'
These n*ggas runnin', these n*ggas runnin'
These n*ggas runnin', these n*ggas runnin'