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Who Run It
These niggas ain't running, shit but y'all mouth Fresh out the
weight yard, ready to knock your ass out Breezo when you coming home? bitch I'm on my way out Clips ain't got no curfew, they just fucking hang out, look Take some shit to know who run it, I
just drop 'em crazy Smack the
clip, and like my bitch's weave, these Glocks came with extensions Forty thou in every pocket like I
got a
pension Money long, these hundreds blue just like the
hair on Marge Simpson Chicago Bull, won't catch me slipping, I
be on my pimping Black man in a
pink with Timberwolves like I
was Taj Gibson Rosé sipping, Cartier frames on my vision Chasing women, I
be touching hoes like I
was Russel Simmons Two K
for these bridges, Mister T
like Robin Givens Breezo flow, this shit's a
given, niggas like to bite my lyrics Percocets, it got me itching, pistol it need 'stensions ahh, plug me in, plug me in, plug me, aight bet Two K
for these bridges, Mister T
like Robin Givens Breezo flow, this shit's a
given, niggas like to bite my lyrics Percocets, it got me itching, pistol it need 'stensions You smoke midget, I'll be out this summer, I
forgot to mention Shout out to Mo 'nem from the
town, my niggas be on molly Sixty up to fifty ninth we bangin, rep the
worst baldy If you wasn't 'round when I
was down you better not fucking call me Stay from 'round me, forty on me, kicking just like Ronda Rousey Off these meds I'm drowsy, foreign whips, I'm fucking clowning Pass the
rock to AK, he shoot AK's like he Bob Cousy I'm balling like Anthony-Towns, I'm on the
real I
keep three bitches with me like [?] Swim with sharks, you bound to drown How they hit, you see that crown Funny niggas listen 'round If he turn up we blow him down AR shield will spin you 'round Chopper clip look like a
frown Bitch we living young and wild I'm acting up when I
touch down Fucking hoes on tour, hammer on me like I'm Thor Keep my fucking blower, six-oh shit, these niggas knowning I'll be home soon, that's a
promise, niggas gon' be sick and vomit Four-five in my pocket, that old nigga sing like Carl Thomas, uh Chopper four-six, AK came with four sticks, uh These is bars behind bars, you better know it bitch, uh Rollies don't tick, niggas they be holding dick, uh Nigga, who run it? I
got it for six hundred You talking, you bluffing, they know how we coming Six hundred, we gunning These niggas ain't running, shit but y'all mouth Fresh out the
weight yard, ready to knock your ass out Breezo when you coming home? bitch I'm on my way out Clips ain't got no curfew, they just fucking hang out, look Who run it? (600 Cartel) Who run it? (600 Cartel) Who run it? (600 Cartel) Who run it? (600 Cartel)
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