Last-Dude – Run Lyrics
Artist: Last-Dude
Song: Run
She want a star (woo)
She wanna f#ck ’cause she know who we are
These hoes be dirty, i ain’t hittin’ ’em raw
When it come to hoes, i got b#tches galore
She wanna grip that, lick that, ask where the stick at
Freak b#tch put my dick where her lips at
She goin’ all gas, no chit-chat
She goin’ all gas, no chit-chat
Ayy, bah-bah-ba-bum (bum)
Here come that boy with the drum
If i pull it out, then that boy gonna run
If he want the smoke, knock the beef out his bun, ayy
I go dumb, dumb, dumb
Air it out, leave him slump-slump-slumped
f#ck what they say, they know that i’m gucci
Pull up with a pump-pump-pump (ayy, ayy)
Cutthroat, love it when thеy run, ho
Knife on the ak, stab ’em with a gun, ho
Hoppin’ in that mosh pit, i was tryna ragе sh#t
It’s a different day, it’s like n#gg#s on the same sh#t, i hate it
Rich like a white b#tch, i should go blonde, b#tch
I put my dick up in your mom, b#tch
You ain’t on sh#t dot-com, b#tch
Desert eagle, take his head off, make it fly like a comet
Glizzy crank your #ss like soulja boy, screamin’, “yah, b#tch”
Okay, i’m turnt
At the party, f#ck ’round, p#ss# boy, and you get burnt
Actin’ up, you actin’ buff, you f#ck ’round, you get murked
These n#gg#s b#tches, mm, i get it
Sauce, b#tch, i’m with it, uh, i get it
Shots at your fitted, mm, i did it
Yuh, i did it, yuh, i did it
n#gg#s askin’ where i get my drip at
Told a n#gg# throw a backpack, n#gg#, back-back, hmm
Asking for the money, where your racks at?
If you ain’t my brother, told a f#ck n#gg# “hush that”, uh
Cartier, cartier, throwing shade, uh
Asian b#tch really like to crochet, uh
And my wrist never like throwing shade, uh
Came to the crib off of kool-aid, ayy
She want a star (woo)
She wanna f#ck ’cause she know who we are
These hoes be dirty, i ain’t hittin’ ’em raw
When it come to hoes, i got b#tches galore
She wanna grip that, lick that, ask where the stick at
Freak b#tch put my dick where her lips at
She goin’ all gas, no chit-chat
She goin’ all gas, no chit-chat
Ayy, bah-bah-ba-bum (bum)
Here come that boy with the drum
If i pull it out, then that boy gonna run
If he want the smoke, knock the beef out his bun, ayy
I go dumb, dumb, dumb
Air it out, leave him slump-slump-slumped
f#ck what they say, they know that i’m gucci
Pull up with a pump-pump-pump (yup, yup)
I got surveillance on satellite of your b#tch plans tonight
For me, she ride tonight, um
I am the bright of the darker times
Just like her bedroom, man, i am her night light of, um
No bands, if i’m superman then that’s kryptonite, um
Goin’ in like a dimple or like a cellulite, um
See you a fan but you kinda bitin’, you termite
And now i’m heatin’ up, feelin’ throwed like a thermite, uh
n#gg#s be still like birth
I can recognize that you pie, but you lies with the worst
I could put his face on a shirt
Got him breakdancin’ ’cause i’m with a little uzi, no vert
Like where the children be, gotta be kiddin’ me
Damage ’em, i think they sick of my tyranny
Goku spirit bomb this whole damn vicinity
Treat ’em like a moon mission, land on ’em literally
.44 barkin’ (ayy, huh), louder than a church choir (huh)
I do a drill in a suit (huh), then i change my attire (look)
She throw her #ss back, in a quick sec’
Change her clothes and then make a snapchat
Then she gon’ talk about it on her facebook
I’m like, “baby, i thought we was past that”
She want a star (woo)
She wanna f#ck ’cause she know who we are
These hoes be dirty, i ain’t hittin’ ’em raw
When it come to hoes, i got b#tches galore
She wanna grip that, lick that, ask where the stick at
Freak b#tch put my dick where her lips at
She goin’ all gas, no chit-chat
She goin’ all gas, no chit-chat
Ayy, bah-bah-ba-bum (bum)
Here come that boy with the drum
If i pull it out, then that boy gonna run
If he want the smoke, knock the beef out his bun, ayy
I go dumb, dumb, dumb
Air it out, leave him slump-slump-slumped
f#ck what they say, they know that i’m gucci
Pull up with a pump-pump-pump (pop, pop, pop)
Find more lyrics at https://dcslyrics.com
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Last-Dude Lyrics – Run
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Release Year: 2020