Run Wild Songtext
von Backburner
Run Wild Songtext
Welcome to the pinnacle
Up above the mezzaninas
Competition coming close
But smoking no cohibas (none)
Undefeated
Trained to body most arenas
Set the roof on fire
Then adios, amoebas
′Cuz no singles sell in the streaming age
Blazing an L, beat the shit out of green berets
Lotta hobbies
Brain stem hot wasabi
Popping bottles in the goblets
Yeah, you probably saw me
Peekaboo Street, believe me you
Deep with the crew like Steve Zissou
In a yellow submarine beneath the surface with my friends, wow!!!
The whole scientific purpose is a revenge
Reciprocal mischief
There's a new tariff in town
You embarrassing clowns perish and drown in my flop sweat
Look what I found in my pocket
Mercy for them that′s not fresh?
Not yet!
God bless the child that rocks an unprecedented style
So inventive that they went the extra mile
No penitence
Nothing but panache and pizzaz
Ha, pass the mic and that's a backward smash and grab
You want old school throwback retro 90s nostalgia
But don't you know that klepto style is foul ya
Don′t know the pain I feel, fibromyalgia
′Cuz biting still sucks and it kills the whole vibe
If you're here to hear OG flows leak from ear to rear
Applied process with progress from year to year
Unfettered by trends, untethered my mental
Capacity affably turning psychotic
This shit here is crazy
Check the radiation levels
It got me growing sky high, aviation level
Yo, I′m big
I'm big
Running with the Devil
Annihilating whole cities, bass and the treble, yeah
Laying waste
Stomping your romper room
Hide your face, metal plate like Dr Doom
Drop a boom box nuke, word to Posdnous
Gobble vodka, too
Just another lovely afternoon
The ride got rinsed in the time I wrote this
Diamond-coated designs rendered hydrophobic, uh
Glide with motion like a lion approaches
Applied aerobics then slide while disguised as locusts
What?
You must be joking, or high as Choke is
Going broke or die trying if you trying to poke us
Huh?
Bespoke rhymes spoke in science notions, ya
Dime wines like we moisturized her eyes with lotion
Yeah, rock your whole head
Sitting at the table eating gold bread
Big Burner, that′s a code red
I skim through the country in a Corvette
Big neck like a pitbull
Bushwack, catch a pit full
Yeah, they call me Savvy Space
Sing a love song to your grandma's face
What you expect, nerds?
Nothing but fresh verse
Backburner′s gotta have the Hand'Solo records
Yes, sir, it's Wordburglar, cousin
We out here doing it all while assuming nothing
No bluffing
Pen game sports author
I make a house crazy, floor crosser
You′re not sure, check the details
Got more rhymes than Bandcamp Friday emails
You said you′re saving all your coins to make it rich like a Kardashian
Then put your card away and quit
Ordering Door Dash again
You're sure you want to tempt your fate
Best meditate before entering into a tete et tete against a cassette vet
Quit stepping on the toes of my homies and my bros
I got a bone to pick with you
We′re secretly the realest crew
We'll pop your perfect bubble raps
So fuck your p′s and all your q's
So quick to always play the game
Do anything for a taste of fame, deep dish, perfection, delish
Up above the mezzaninas
Competition coming close
But smoking no cohibas (none)
Undefeated
Trained to body most arenas
Set the roof on fire
Then adios, amoebas
′Cuz no singles sell in the streaming age
Blazing an L, beat the shit out of green berets
Lotta hobbies
Brain stem hot wasabi
Popping bottles in the goblets
Yeah, you probably saw me
Peekaboo Street, believe me you
Deep with the crew like Steve Zissou
In a yellow submarine beneath the surface with my friends, wow!!!
The whole scientific purpose is a revenge
Reciprocal mischief
There's a new tariff in town
You embarrassing clowns perish and drown in my flop sweat
Look what I found in my pocket
Mercy for them that′s not fresh?
Not yet!
God bless the child that rocks an unprecedented style
So inventive that they went the extra mile
No penitence
Nothing but panache and pizzaz
Ha, pass the mic and that's a backward smash and grab
You want old school throwback retro 90s nostalgia
But don't you know that klepto style is foul ya
Don′t know the pain I feel, fibromyalgia
′Cuz biting still sucks and it kills the whole vibe
If you're here to hear OG flows leak from ear to rear
Applied process with progress from year to year
Unfettered by trends, untethered my mental
Capacity affably turning psychotic
This shit here is crazy
Check the radiation levels
It got me growing sky high, aviation level
Yo, I′m big
I'm big
Running with the Devil
Annihilating whole cities, bass and the treble, yeah
Laying waste
Stomping your romper room
Hide your face, metal plate like Dr Doom
Drop a boom box nuke, word to Posdnous
Gobble vodka, too
Just another lovely afternoon
The ride got rinsed in the time I wrote this
Diamond-coated designs rendered hydrophobic, uh
Glide with motion like a lion approaches
Applied aerobics then slide while disguised as locusts
What?
You must be joking, or high as Choke is
Going broke or die trying if you trying to poke us
Huh?
Bespoke rhymes spoke in science notions, ya
Dime wines like we moisturized her eyes with lotion
Yeah, rock your whole head
Sitting at the table eating gold bread
Big Burner, that′s a code red
I skim through the country in a Corvette
Big neck like a pitbull
Bushwack, catch a pit full
Yeah, they call me Savvy Space
Sing a love song to your grandma's face
What you expect, nerds?
Nothing but fresh verse
Backburner′s gotta have the Hand'Solo records
Yes, sir, it's Wordburglar, cousin
We out here doing it all while assuming nothing
No bluffing
Pen game sports author
I make a house crazy, floor crosser
You′re not sure, check the details
Got more rhymes than Bandcamp Friday emails
You said you′re saving all your coins to make it rich like a Kardashian
Then put your card away and quit
Ordering Door Dash again
You're sure you want to tempt your fate
Best meditate before entering into a tete et tete against a cassette vet
Quit stepping on the toes of my homies and my bros
I got a bone to pick with you
We′re secretly the realest crew
We'll pop your perfect bubble raps
So fuck your p′s and all your q's
So quick to always play the game
Do anything for a taste of fame, deep dish, perfection, delish
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