Run 4 Mayor Songtext
von Jae Millz

Young Money, cuff your chick
Harlem, I got one thing to say before I start this verse, leggo


Feelin′ so good that I might run for mayor
So good I might buy a present for a hater
I just wanna slayver, you just wanna savor
Well good come and get her, let me get back to my paper
Straight from Harlem with the sellers and the shavers
To a high rise balcony way in the ayer
Stand on my own so I don't need no favors
And the clock on my wrist dumber than anyone of Flavor′s
Cyclops watch the bitch beam lasers
And all my diamonds dancin' Junior, Sammy Davis
Oh that's your girl? I make her scream see you later
Take her home and make her sing like Anita Baker
They all underestimated
But I made it, so I′m waving
From that Young Money float while we parading
Yeah we the champs and everyday′s a celebration
Ain't nobody do it like this in ages
Not only are we Young Money, bitch we are the greatest
Catch me in some Jordan′s 'fore you catch me in some gators
And no I′m not icey bitch I'm definitely a glacier
Certified NY wife taker
Old school game like Walt Clyde Frazier
Pockets all money like an open pager
I grew up in an apartment but I′m a Don Agus

Mass murder every type of hater
And I ain't from Atlanta but the beat get Decatur'd
Eat the 808′s, bitches say they love my flavor
Cause I′m a yellow nigga, ha, so I rep the Lakers
Wilt Chamberlain, hoes in too many places
Player player shit, cities next to where they names is
Famous Amos shit, want the cookie with the raisins
I play stages, no games no Sega's
Rap raging, move out my fucking way bitch
Are you Asian? Yup, smartest in my age group
I′m faded, and I ain't even off nathan
So blatant, and half of these bitches basic
I′m on it, you're falling off
Humpty Dumpty in the yard I′m a fucking dog
Pissed and shit, write my name on a star
Skinny nigga dough, hoes slurping on my straw
Big boy dough


Millz
I got you
Harlem
South Beach pimpin' nigga
We coming back nigga
We miss you
You dig?
Gudda

Okay, real fly nigga bitches see me and they holla
My shades block the sun rays, Dolce and Gabana
Louis briefcase, Louis rag, I'm styling
Credit cards in my Louis wallet when I′m going shopping
This is Young Money so the money ain′t a problem
Got my daughter with me if she want it then I'm gonna cop it
All my kids spoiled rotten, they get everything they wantin′
They just call daddy and I have it to 'em by the morning
I′m a young paid nigga, got it made nigga
Not bad, I quit school in the 9th grade nigga
Left my mama house I was still a underage nigga
I was like fuck this shit, I gotta get paid nigga
Now it's 2010 and we the hottest in the game
It′s Young Money, mention money when you say my name
They call me Gudda Gudda, double G it's all the same
Heroin flow, cocaine, put it in your vein

Yeah, Millz
We gon' kill these niggas for the 2010
You heard me yet?
On some G shit, you feel me?
You hear me slurring right now
I′m on that syrup right now
Tall cup of mud on deck nigga, what?
Fuck ya