This is a song about "My flow runs the economy"

My capillaries are few and the blood runs blue

And you got that bomb, huh, i'm tryna detonate you

Say you through will all my foul ways

My flow you hate the pace

Intervals polluting the economy/

You a lady boss, now you fly free

He runs back o the elevator, runs and slams his door,

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see

The bloodshed's reality, it runs thick, it's tragedy

Maybe it's the paranoia in my brain - or it's the flow

Annihilatin' those, i'm rakin' but makin' dough

I like a chick wit big breasts on her chest

New york runs the rap game, can't tell the best?

So i pull the plug before it runs another bit

This is known as a classic, yeah that chapped lips crack shit