TM88, Pi’erre Bourne — Run it

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Текст TM88, Pi’erre Bourne — Run it

We don’t fuck with you no more ’cause niggas be flawed as hell
And you know I’m ’bout my coins like I’m ’bout to toss in a well
Man, my money be talking crazy, shit be talking to itself
Diamonds dance like they Jabbawockee
I stack cheese like it’s melting on broccoli
I’m beating the pussy up using karate
I was in a trance seen a chrome Maserati
Stack paper up, read about it
Said she wanna fuck, give me your body
I’m in the truck, girl be my driver
Said she gon’ suck, sloppy and toppy
I don’t know what you want from me
Nigga can’t get no Soss for free
She wanna give me everything
I just really want a piece
She really want a wedding ring
Kaepernick, gotta take a knee
Why y’all wanna settle me?
How that nigga get that cheese?
Yeah buddy, yeah buddy, yeah buddy, yeah (Trust me)
Yeah buddy, yeah buddy, yeah buddy, yeah (Trust me, Trust me)
Counting up my money every Monday (Trust me)
Rockin’ ice-cream, no sundae (Trust me)
Knew you gon’ switch, yeah, someday (Trust me)
Know I’ll be rich, yeah, one day (Trust me)
Nigga wanna be just like me (Trust me)
Superhero, Black Lightning (Trust me)
Got my Yeez in the crowd, team Nike (Trust me)
Pull out the crown, she wifey (Trust me)
You and your feelings are back to the bullshit
Smoking on flower, I’m rollin’ up tulip
I got her wet like she jumped off a cruise ship
Dive in her pussy so I never lose it
Keep on a rubber, yes I gotta use it
Smoking The Shining, this shit make me foolish

Yeah buddy, yeah buddy, yeah buddy, yeah
Yeah buddy, yeah buddy, yeah buddy, run it

Depend on us, we just gon’ run it up (Ay, run it up)
Depend on us, we just gon’ run it up (Ay, run it up)
Run it up, run it up, run it up
Depend on us, we was ‘posed to run it up (Ay, run it up)
Depend on us, we just gon’ run it up (Ay, run it up)
Depend on us, we was ‘posed to run it up (Ay, run it up)
Depend on us, we just gon’ run it up (Ay, run it up)

Nigga not gang, I don’t know him
I’m in Chiraq, shoutout foe’nem
I feel like Shaq, I don’t O’Neal
The beat your own ass, Jermaine O’Neal
Nigga talk money, that’s my old deal
I just met Howie, Deal or No Deal
She wanna ride like a four-wheel
Amateur bitch, she got no skill
Rafs on my feet, I keep a tab on me
I feel like I’m Santana, jewels on me
I buy what I want, a spoiled brat I be
I get what I want ’cause all this cash on me
All this cash (On me)
Cash, cash, cash (On me, on me, on me)
All this cash (On me)
Cash, cash, cash (On me, on me, on me)
All these racks (On me)
Racks, racks, racks (On me, on me, on me)
All this cash (On me)
Cash, cash, cash (On me, on me, on me)
All these racks (On me)
Racks, racks, racks (On me, on me, on me)