lirik lagu blu - funky cowboy meets the funky drummer
[verse i]
i run my sh-t up at the clean hand shops off of slauson
flossing like my other than it reign supreme
crown fitted, why would they think i wouldn’t when i’m in it like
john wooden with the cushion with the lean ’bout
one eighty, ’bout it like i bop a n-gga bobble like, bobby knight
mac dowel type, ugh, you donald, it’s duck season
i’m hollow and buck often and – fallen off, i – often
caught him in deep thought tonguing down a gold tooth
old spice with the pro tool vocals
the old school with the home phone
the old post kept the hoes loose
[chorus]
now i run my sh-t up on the world
i run my sh-t up on the world, world, world
i run my sh-t up on the world
i run my sh-t up on the, ugh, on the world
[verse ii]
i run sh-t up at the clean hand shops off of slauson
flossing like my other than it reign supreme
and still boss
why would they think i wasn’t if i wasn’t, f-ck it
still buzzing tilt douglas on the sauce, it cost
one fifty to floss in one city for me
’cause when you folks it’s a different fee
i’m either seen with the clappers
or children of black panthers, the queens
the pink panthers, black b-tches on the scene, i mean
i never asked if you thought i was a wild boy
sick with it, let my style poise, ugh
and n-ggas had to get up out of illinois
since sider was chi boy
[chorus]
now i run my sh-t up on the world
i run my sh-t up on the world, world, world
i run my sh-t up on the world
i run my sh-t up on the, ugh, on the world
[verse iii]
ayo my money long, buddy long, but he slim, uh, yeah
the ghetto’s right under that b-tter leather, but it’s him
once again, slim with the grin, tilted brim, spinning hubcaps
ugh, f-ck that, sh-tty bus paths
i crack a flask on that -ss off a bmx, yup
thin -ss tires, letting my chains flare, yeah
gold b-tch it’s always go, play the welfare
chill chick i’m on a cell phone, cool kid, i’m on a bike b-tch
swoop a n-gga for a have to kruga n-gga, sh-t is dead
b-tches fled from the verse they rather give him head
83, black and soul p-ss electro gold
my sh-t shine, b-tches it’s always go
f-ck a shiny suit, still giving shiners
don’t blind ’em, closelining
the whole city behind him, aye
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