RUN TOO Songtext
von EARTHGANG

Yo
More lighter flicks (I need lighter flicks)
We well acquainted at this
We well acquainted at this point (yeah)
Past first date
Ooh, aight, let′s do this shit
Oh, shit
(Yeah, ooh, yeah) dropped my phone, dropped my phone
(Ooh) uh

I must be one of the lucky ones
Great dick, so-so credit, live life light, headed
I'm the madness to the method, man
From a place without no Wu-Tang Clan
But we got Ku Klux Klans all up through there
Hustle all we do here
Tryna make shake ′til it's popping like a root beer
Made this in a leap year, next year I'll be nuclear
Hella high falutin′, hot boxing two stories
I′on give a fuck 'bout who here


Always been the underdog it′s over for that bullshit
Born with the skillset, built up the toolkit
Got the pocket presence, it's a breeze on some Drew shit
Hate when niggas talk but when they see you they don′t do shit
I'm a simple man but even that can be confusing
Always said my checkered past would have ′em jumping to conclusions
Can't have nobody around me that ain't making contributions
All I do is run, get high, fuck, and make music (ooh)

What a life, what a life, what a life this is
Who can I, who can I open up to?
What a life, what a life, what a life this is
Who can I, who can I open up to?

I′m tired of niggas
I′m tired of motherfuckers underachieving
Scared of their greatness, wasting their breathing
Spoiling blessings
Pissing they chances down the drain
Sitting own they hands and wondering why their situation ain't change

I′m tired of crackers, I'm tired dealing with you racist bastards
Salty-asses, can′t focus on nothing else but me
I'm tired of haters frightened by something I′ma be
'Cause my purpose got you feeling worthless, now we enemies

I'm tired of sleeping, tired of creeping, tired of hoes
Tired of hot-ass summers with crooked cops on patrol
Shawty tryna do her best as she slide down this pole
But she see my mind gone, I′m all alone


So who can I open up to? Prolly this bottle
This sack of weed it talks to me
We eye to eye, we knee to knee
Praying for some shit ain′t sure if it exist
Huh, yeah, we lucky if we wind up with a loyal bitch

Yeah, we slide out our moms, how quickly we forget
Here surrounded by lies and plastic like a zip here
Hope you ain't got this image of me in your head
The chosen son, the one you meet after you dead
The holy one, no blemish, not a stain on his linen
Picture perfect, perfect image
Nigga, that ain′t how I'm living
Nigga, that ain′t how I'm living
So go on, put your fingers in the sky for the sinners

What a life, what a life, what a life this is
Who can I, who can I open up to?
What a life, what a life, what a life this is
Who can I, who can I open up to? (To)
What a life, what a life, what a life this is (I wanna know)
Who can I, who can I open up to?

Ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh-ooh, oh, ooh
Ooh-ooh, oh, ooh
Ooh-ooh