Créditos

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Peezy
Peezy
Künstler:in
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Phillip Glen-Earl Peaks
Phillip Glen-Earl Peaks
Songwriter:in

Letras

Yeah, mmm
Yeah
Run it up, run it up, run it up
Run it up, run it up, run it up
Run it up, run it up, run it up
Run it up, run it up, run it up
E'ry day that I wake up
I'm just tryna get my cake up
41 with the face bust
Bad bitch with no makeup
I ain't takin' no pay cuts
Gotta pay me in full
Ride with my young bull
When he bust your head, I'ma pay for it
You won't catch me at the strip club
If I ain't throwin' no bands
If there's a problem we gon' knock you up
We ain't throwin' no hands
Fifteen hundred dollar pair of sneakers
I ain't wearin' no Vans
Four thousand dollar outfit on
I'm a grown ass man
Run it up, run it up, run it up
What you gon' do with yourself
I'm a boss when I'm hands on ****
I don't do good with the help
Got some killers that'll come see you ****
And I'll do it myself
All these **** my kids, might whoop they ass with my belt
Needy bitches gon' run it in
Like I do bad for myself
Never told ****, never will
Can't have that on my rep
Five thou' on my right pocket
Another five thou' on my left
Get you killed with my cellphone
You be asked out if I text
Do the shit with no effort
I don't fold under pressure
Two roses, I'm extra
That's a crazy ass necklace
Back to back to back hellcats
I don't think these **** get the message
Two hundred on the dashboard
Leave you in the past like my exes
Run it up, run it up, run it up
What you gon' do with your life
Better think about your family
Pussy **** what they gonna do when you die
Got some **** 'bout to come home
And I got some **** doin' life
Sent the junkie to the corner store
Told him bring back a pair of dice
We just caught another box
Ain't no tellin' what's in it
Fifty bold, came back with steel
I'ma bust the watch when I'm finished
Might just take the whole summer off
I'll be back in November
All my **** hotheads we don't give a fuck
I know temper
Left the club in a trap car
I don't give a fuck 'bout no Bentley
Pulled out a bottle of 130 and all the bitches came with us
Sipped on Woc and the cream soda
Fo' double cups me and Rizzy
I ain't lettin' nothin' stop me ****
I'ma still ball if I'm injured
Run it up, run it up, run it up
41 on my wrists
We gon' do 36
'Less you talkin' 'bout a brick
Callin' me I'ma bang on you if you ain't talkin' 'bout no chips
I ain't worryin' 'bout sneak dissin'
You ain't really talkin' 'bout shit
R.I.P. my **** Neff
R.I.P. my **** Reef
R.I.P. my **** Smurf
It ain't been the same on these streets
Free my **** Ice Work
Free my **** D.P.
Small **** with a big pistol
Bust your head O.G.P.
Ten thou' for a show
Ain't comin' down on my price
7500 for a verse, **** you can pay me in pints
I ain't playin' with y'all lil' ****
I'd rather play with your wife
40K in diamonds on, touch 'em while you pay with your life
I'm just talkin' my shit ****
I don't need no hood
Stack on me all blue hundreds, bitch looks thicker than a book
Postin' guns on the Gram
Pussy **** you ain't no killa, you shook
Whole city know you a fraud if I see you bitch you took
Fiends say the dope straight
Dry **** courtesy of the cook
All those mothefuckin' jewellery on cost
An arm, leg and a foot
Get money, get money ****
'Cause your shorty can't eat books
Signed up for this street shit
Right when I jumped off the porch
Run it up, run it up, run it up
I ain't gon' tell you again
Took my charge on a 10
I ain't tellin' on my friends
V 12 on an S coupe
And I supercharge on a Benz
Run with dealers and swipers ****
We sell dope and bands
Got some **** do the phone shit
They'll clear your line and go again
Got some **** that steal clothes
Get your bitch fresh and kids
Got some **** with the gift cards
Help you decorate your new crib
I don't knock no **** hustle
Do what you gotta do to live
Two pops already poured
Sittin' on chill in the fridge
Two rakes in a billy truck
'Bout to pull up the club lift
Mo' money than the owner of the club
We don't leave when it end
Mo' money than your baby daddy
Bitch fuck you and your kids
Mmm, let the beat ride on Day
Yeah
Written by: Phillip Peaks
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