Run This Town

(album: No Ceilings - 2009)

Yeah
Millzy, I see you
T told me, "Do this shit."
So I'ma do this shit
No Ceilings!
Yeah, ha ha
ha ha ha
I'ma run this town tonight
All right, now
Ugh

Nigga, we are so ready for the war
C-A-R-T-E-R, put the beat in ER
I'm colder than "B-R" add another three Rs
Watch me like DVD/VCR
Pump to your chest, I ain't talking CPR
Riding this track like a motherfucking streetcar
New Orleans coroner—his name is Frank Minyard
Fuck with me wrong, you'll be waking up in his yard
Man, I go crazy on the beat, I go Nimrod
Man, I act a ass, treat the beat like a hemorrhoid
Man, I go to work on the beat, call it "employed"
Man, I kicks it, bitch, get your shinguard! Ugh
Young Money run this—towns, countries
I still eat rappers—mm, scrumptious
My goons tote thumpers, they pump 'em like krumpers
Anybody beat, I'm gon' go Archie Bunkers
Tunechi be the wildest, let's run the metropolis
I pop like lollies, you drop like eyelids
The money keep calling, I hear the shit dialing
And they say money talks, you can hear my shit holl'ing
You softer than ny-lin; oops, I meant "nylon"
Perfection is the goal, and I'm headed to the pylon
Crown fit me good, I ain't even got to try on
The pistol mean business—that bitch should have a tie on
T done told me, "Do this shit," so I had to do this shit
I get superhero money, call a nigga "super-rich"
Keep it "super" for a while, let me get on my super-shit
Super-ill, super-sick—dog, I go super-Vick
Ran into a superwoman, turned her to a super-bitch
Hit her with that super-dick, she be coming super-quick
Super-Millz, Mack, Tyga, Streets, 'Nelly, Super Nick'
Super-Drizzy, Gudda, Chuckee, Twist, that's the super-clique
Now, I'm off that "super" shit, fuck that shit, I super-quit
Running circles 'round the game, like a hula hoop and shit
You gon' have to loop this shit, there won't be a duplicate
And my blunts be super-thick, I'm higher than a Supra kick
I—I—I'm the bomb, baby, watch me nuke this shit
When I leave the booth, they gotta scoop this shit
My apologies, diabolically
I'm the prodigy—do you roger me?
I look in the flames and see a hotter me
But how come I'm still colder than commonly?
Yeah, we run this town, like a lot of feet
Young Mula, baby; I'm proud of me