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Correct Who Run It (Freestyle) Lyrics
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Artists: C
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CupcakKe
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Correct Who Run It (Freestyle)
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[Intro] Shout out to Stormcutter, Three 6 Mafia, G Herbo I wrote this shit in four fucking hours No sleep, man [Verse] Let me talk my shit real quick, all the real niggas gon' feel this How that's yo' kid but he ain't got bills? Can't find you in family pics Food stamps, they go so quick when you up in a family of six So it's funny how they sell that shit for a little pack of weed and a new pair of kicks Man, I'm so dead, I can't, inside I feel so blank Little girls on Twitter talkin' 'bout they break up, girl, sit back on Paint If I'm alive, no complaints, none of these judges saints Let the black beat her, that's 10 years, but if white beat her, "nice tank" It's so ridiculous, ain't shit funny, ain't ticklish Don't test me if I'm with the shits, end up in a cage, no Nicholas Everything about me is interesting, I'ma need more and more Benjamins Damn, I can't breathe, stop smoking them trees, got your insides looking like Christmas Ungrateful hoes, get the fuck out of here, you had a rough day and I had a rough year So when I get money I really do care, go and invest it, not spending on gear Think about that, just stating facts, niggas don't chart when it's real rap Earn my respect then you get it right back, that go hand in hand ain't talkin' dap A lot of issues in my past still hurt me to this day, to the core I don't ever open up 'cause I know people change like the oil Over 100k up on tour, still got a mindset like I'm poor But I'm on the roll when it come to rappin' like a pack of aluminum foil Man, I love walking barefoot, I really like the feel when I'm at the bottom (what?) 'Cause I know it's only for a couple of seconds, then I'm right back to my stardom (that's right) Motherfuckers ain't woke, man, I gotta fuck around and re-alarm 'em I'm woke all day, 3 AM, when they call me Jake from State Farm Okay, lil' bitch, act like you know, anything I say is right like nose Walk right over there, hoe, like roach, and it's over for these hoes, no dose Walk in that bitch with a white T, they don't really like me but you know how that goes Walk out that bitch you would think I'm little red riding hood, how I got blood on my clothes Let's not paint that picture, if I shoot, won't miss ya Anything prior to this won't matter, man, I'm just tryna get richer (in the past) Y'all ain't peep Richard Pryor, y'all brain flat, no tire Now everybody tryna hang like a fucking dirty diaper They like "follow me for a follow back," bitch you follow me, then you getting smacked I enter shit but I don't interact, never sucked up, I drink Similac Shorty bluffin', ain't got nothin' in her pocket but a fucking cigarette (broke ass) Ain't talkin' no massage when I say I'm 'bout to hit the bitch in the back (ah) I'm always so prepared, I don't flinch, that's rare (you know it) Them boys singing in Walmart, I won't move 'cause I'm never scared Just know I ain't playing fair, I want a big wheel, no chair (that money) So it's hard getting to the top, but it's easy going down like the stairs
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