lirik lagu ptm.brokegod - who run it (remix)
who run the met, that’s me
you can catch me in the streets makin’ sumn
gon catch me in the kitchen bakin’ sumn
might find me in yo house takin’ sumn
might find me in the woods straight puffin on woods smoke green up like a train or sumn
f-ck yo plug i ain’t payin’ for nothin’
i’m too busy flippin’ the hunnids
i’m to busy stackin’ the money
i’m too busy f-ckin’ yo b-tch
she suck me then give u a kiss
i ran out of time for the b-tch
i need a new clock on my wrist
invicta it gimmie a kiss
i put a whole o on my wrist
my business worth more than your clique
and i don’t take kindly to sh-t
f-ck wit me i’m slitting yo wrists
i’m leavin you restin in p-ss
lil b-tch i’m a vet wit the sh-t
make you sell yo house for some bricks
i run up a check and i split
cuz i don’t trust n-ggas for sh-t
snitch n-gga worth less than my spit aye
been f-cked by bloods and crips alike
thats silly me thinkin we was tight
thats silly ‘rik thinkin i don’t bite
and silly me let him keep his life
he snitched quick what a little b-tch
but god blessed me, no charges hit
n-ggas lucky i ain’t had a stick
but he now he knows who he f-cked wit
b-tch im a k!ller for money
hitman in the dope game
none of you n-ggas can touch me
f-ck them n-ggas i’m my own gang
f-ck it imma sn-tch my own chain
and flip it to up my supply
then sell it to keep the hood high
i’m moving that green from dubai
f-ck all the gangs f-ck all the lames, f-ck all the fake -ss k!llers
you say you a blood imma spill ya, you claim gsc imma peel ya
cuz n-gga its f-ck yo feelings
like i got my d-ck in yo nerves
i’m leaving y’all dead on the curb
got n-ggas like just say the word
but i keep it quiet cuz im on a diet
i eatin these n-ggas myself aye
their tapes straight rot on the shelf
my product keeps bringing in wealth ooo
i do it like n0body else
i’m mailing the dope super stealth
i’m finna start growin myself
the money is good for my health
so who run the met thats me
ballin like cp3
a young shooter like rondo
load the 9 shoot a 3
keepin’ iron on me
like im tryna f-ck up some wrinkles
hoes stay eyin me
like im a cake wit the sprinkles
but don’t call me sweet
cuz i bring the heat
i burn up the block like i’m bowser
i’m in the streets movin that sour
stay snappin cuz i got the power
i might have to cop me some powder
i might have to start whippin bricks
i might start supplying the sh-t
i might have to p-ss to -ssist
its broke god i’m runnin’ this sh-t
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