Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Germ

Runnin Thru Plastic

 

Runnin Thru Plastic

(album: The Hijinx Tape - 2020)


One more time (Hahaha)
Skrrt, bah (Boom, boom, don't even know what the fuck going on)
Running through these bags, nigga, through these bags, nigga

Running through these bags, I just can't help it, I'm feeling myself (Feeling myself)
Pocket rocket on me, keep it by my Fendi belt
Balenciaga what she rocking, hope that Prada make her melt
Pave my own road to these riches, get right, don't get left
I used to fade, break bread with my niggas by that fountain
Watch me count it up, count it up, lil' bitch, might move a mountain
These them things we do, them Glocks and sticks might change the mood (Bah, bah)
Diamonds hit like fah, fah, huh

Bitch, I really do this, bitch, I did it, all this sinning
Who'da thought 'bout all this winning, I could've really used yo' presence though
Bitch, I been that mofucka, clutching on that mofucka
Ready to blow this mofucka, I wish I would've listened, oh
I been on these downers wasting days like I got time to waste
Chanel rag 'round my head, at least I'm dripping on my dying day
I been bent off Perkys, a couple bars, I seen a couple stars
And keep them fuck niggas from around my way 'cause I'm already scarred
Brand new Rollie, I think my wrist a nympho
Bitch, I'm way too cold like choppas that y'all niggas claim to blow
I pulled fresher than a pack of rubbers, fasho
All these emotions, roll a blunt, call up yo' bitch phone (Hah)

Running through these bags, I just can't help it, I'm feeling myself (Feeling myself)
Pocket rocket on me, keep it by my Fendi belt
Balenciaga what she rocking, hope that Prada make her melt
Pave my own road to these riches, get right, don't get left
I used to fade, break bread with my niggas by that fountain
Watch me count it up, count it up, lil' bitch, might move a mountain
These them things we do, them Glocks and sticks might change the mood (Bah, bah)
Diamonds hit like fah, fah, huh

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?