Drego & Beno

Tryna Run G
Yeah Yeah You know what I'm talkin' 'bout? I got my brothers with me And out here in New York, I'm leanin' You know what I'm sayin'? We schemin' You feel me? Yeah You know what I'm sayin'? Like We just been gettin' money and we just been stayin' out the way, like This shit for real You know? You can't be playin' out here in these streets You know? (Man) She let me stick it in slow, do you feel it? I been really ridin' 'round with my killers, my hitters I been independent Fuck around and bust down the pendant, uh I got real slimes, I got mob ties Yeah, I'm in New York just like Cam'ron, uh On the shoreline just like Ron-Ron They tryna run G, I don't feel it, uh They said, Drego, baby boy, you the realest My baby cookin' in the kitchen like a chemist, uh I'm the one that did this shit, you the victim, yeah Thirty-two, Hamilton, we gon' rip him Goddamn, that ass fat, let me grip it, grip it Songtexte The dog, my dawg, he send it, ah It's a quarter brick, I'ma whip it It's a Hellcat, I'ma drift it Hundred thou' or two hundred thousand I could get 'em lined up Yeah, I'm in my prime, huh? The dove game goin' down and up Philippine Supreme, Louis V I could do this shit every day this week If it's a meal, I let the whole team eat Let's get the bag, yeah, down to the DMV Huh, got this lil' bitch from the Oakland up at PNC, huh And she gon' hit them stores like them GC's Nigga, you ain't never turned in a hundred bands worth of gift fees Nigga, I'm the one made this scamming shit trendy, hold on Track one, track two, nigga, pass me the embosser Sixty Xboxs, pack of panties for my daughter Tryna get a hundred-eleven pros out of Target Paint him with this glizzy, tell the feds I'm an artist Huh, I done hit every Walmart up in Charlotte Nigga hit the store like I'm dressed like a gardener Huh, I'm 'bout to line my other cousin up, huh, like a barber Huh, he should've known he shouldn't brung that nigga 'round a robber Just like the Carters, bitch, we got the block slappin' And the trap on bounce, Josh Jackson If I get a hundred 'bows, I'll probably stop rappin' Make 'em disappear with this Glock like it's magic Uh, I got real slimes, I got mob ties Yeah, I'm in New York just like Cam'ron, uh On the shoreline just like Ron-Ron They tryna run G, I don't feel it Aus Songtexte Mania