Runnin', runnin' from the same cops
Sb nike's, with the grey box
Runnin' with an axe i'm mike myers/
Oldest nation on this earth
And if i give it to you, don't you treat me like them bitches
And mobb deep was runnin' shook ones, they was meant for this
I'm duckin' the feds, touchin' the bread, and hopefully, faithfully,
Now you stuck up in my mothafucking basement all bloody
Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my pocket
Stopped runnin from my demons, now we play cards and shit
While scheming on hits
Runnin home invasions
And runnin' with specific crews, turnin' blue? shit's a clue
My niggas'll probably clown me if i told 'em that i kissed you
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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