She grabs a knife with her feet, cuts the tape and runs,
Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts
The dead society of a poet
Deezy, runs this rap shit,
He runs to her, to stop her screamin',
What up girl, tell me how you been
Girl you're my reflection, all i see is you
My capillaries are few and the blood runs blue
Now he loads gats and runs with the sick crews with rifles,
But i need your faith in me, i'm a sucka for love
And you don't wanna go to clubs no more and
Into home runs, while you run home shook and rattled
New york runs the rap game, can't tell the best?
Optimism - wishin' make you too content
He rises runs the game while his cleats pry
I swear the pen right across from hell, i can't cry
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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