Young Scooter - Road Runners lyrics

[Mr. Fool Up] Yea, we got Zaytoven on the muthaf**in' beat (Zay-tiggy) Young Scooter, k**a Skip, me myself (who that is?) It's yo boy, Mr. Fool Up Shoutout to all my muthaf**in road runners out there, though We be runnin' the mu'f**in streets, dough All we know is grindin and that's how we is [Verse 1: Young Scooter] My cellphone ringing yea I know the number (naw) Last thing I heard n***a was an informer (he were) Shot a text to my phone like he need two (damn) Tell em what 'chu want, n***a, I ain't served you (naw) When you get street money, that's what you go through (tax-free) I got bricks too (bricks), you know what I do (yea) Rest in peace, and Phatty, (Boosie?) beat his case Phatt told me 'fore he died my music make em take it They grindin in the truck, and it's alot of {cake?} (salute) Dead presidents equal murder cases (yea) That's if you in the streets, em n***as ain't playin' (uh-uh) It takes a whole lot to be a Bossman! [Hook: Mr Fool Up and crew] We some Road Runners (yea), We stay runnin' all the time On the road doing shows, then it's right back to the grind We still busy, n***a (yea), chasing after doller signs Aww, this {judge?] makin my money multiply, everyday we countin' up 5's, 10's, 20's, 50's and them 100's (count it out) Break down sales, (like?) we're print money, (count it out) It takes a lot to be a boss in the streets I'm countin' money, even when I go to sleep Everyday I'm counting up [Verse 2: Mr Fool Up] I live a crazy life, everyday my schedule be so hectic I wake up thinkin' 'bout money so I go out there and get it There's plenty of ways to get paid, so I always keep a mission That's the end of limelight, cause too many n***as be snitchin' Jail bars and fences, I ain't trying to live that way So I buzz a war on myself, now I'm quarterback in all my plays All you Wile E. Coyotes can stay the f** from out my way If the conversation ain't 'bout money, then I ain't got nothin to say Hard work, no play, that's my attitude everyday I hit the block so aggressive cause I'm in love with big faces Run them streets like we racist, instead of punchin' the clock The only nine to five I know is to serve the whole block [Hook] [Verse 3: k**a Skip] I'm running that road I'm a bread runner Straight trafficking work with a headhunter Got 5% take for the sled s**er That sack in the trunk that's Fed numbers Keep iron on my lap I'm a lead dumper Sneak dissing my trap I'll redrum ya Heart puncture, lung puncture, dome shot ya, head lump ya Petty-a** n***as I call 'em losers I rock with n***as who make maneuvers Entrepreneurs, distributors, like Fool Up and Young Scooter You want that work I'll get it to ya My coke stepped on like horse manure Ain't have my money then you that shoot up I lift my tool up, your pushing tulips I'm a gat packer, manufacture, stack junkie, money maniac, uh Boss, that n***a talk sh** to crackers Better check your ho, cause I'm a b**h slap 'er Better hide your child, I'm a kidnap 'em You'll get em right back when you pay the ransom Double stock from Lou keep a n***a handsome When its time to chicken up k**a Skip the man, son [Hook]