Young M.A - Don't Run (Remix) lyrics

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Young M.A - Don't Run (Remix) lyrics

(Chorus – Casanova) Ni**as try and catch me in the drop Ni**as try and book me for my watch They ain’t know I had the Glock, boom, boom, boom Now, everybody getting shot, boom boom Ni**as try and catch me in the drop Ni**as try and book me for my watch They ain’t know I had the Glock, boom, boom, boom Now, everybody getting shot, boom boom (Post Chorus) F**k boy, don’t run Where you going? F**k boy, don’t run My watch still on me! F**k boy, don’t run Where you going?! They ain’t know I had the gat F**k boy, don’t run F**k boy, don’t run Where you going? F**k boy, don’t run Get that ni**a! They ain’t know I had the gun (Verse 1 – Young M.A) Brooklyn Brooklyn Brooklyn, this Brooklyn back at it again If it’s a issue then we handle that Me and my guns stick together like candle wax No face, no chase, tied the bandana back Ni**as blam at me f**k it I’m blamming back Get the grip with extended clip Dare a ni**a flip, you showing off Let that 40 off, boom tomato sauce Those is for us, ni**a take ’em off Ni**a take em, I want that watch I want that chain too, thank you that’ll be all I be mobbing with a bunch of G’s, yo it’s Redlyfe Highspeed dipping on the D’s, running red lights Hop out, run in the building f**king up a pair of dykes No paradise, I’m in the hood like a pair of dice (Verse 2 – Fabolous) They like damn you be moving different Acting Hollywood like you in the movie business Naw dawg but I just gotta prove em different But still packing like I’m in the moving business Once you level up, you gotta maneuver different Your boy still whipping like he in the smoothie business Got the jamba juice right here in Obama’s roof Ni**as type with me cause they baby momma lose Hold up, you f**kboys ain’t get it She got with a real one, now f**kboys can’t hit We out here making moves, f**kboys ain’t with it When the fam pop out, you f**kboys ain’t litty, ha I had to call Cas, like bro I heard ni**as won’t book me for a watch Naw it’s a Philipe for a show The biggest want Boogie for a watch I guess time is money If being broke is a joke y’all never find us funny I’m on a thousand, the sh** you on is lousy So your shorty let me beat her like Ronda Rousey (Chorus – Casanova) Ni**as try and catch me in the drop Ni**as try and book me for my watch They ain’t know I had the Glock, boom, boom, boom Now, everybody getting shot, boom boom, boom Ni**as try and catch me in the drop Ni**as try and book me for my watch They ain’t know I had the Glock, boom, boom, boom Now, everybody getting shot, boom boom (Post Chorus) F**k boy, don’t run Where you going? F**k boy, don’t run My watch still on me! F**k boy, don’t run Where you going?! They ain’t know I had the gat F**k boy, don’t run F**k boy, don’t run Where you going? F**k boy, don’t run Get that ni**a! They ain’t know I had the gun (Verse 3 – Dave East) They ain’t know I had the Sig on me I can give a f**k about your big home Jumping out that foreign, I got your b**h on me In all white looking like I bust a brick open You Frank Ocean ni**as singing to men The bouncer know how we rocking so we bringing them ’em in Juice around, got me leaning again If I say them ni**as is opps, you never see me with them I book ni**as, ni**as book me that’s gangsta Been cut, homie tried to book me with a razor Cripping in the G, but I’m like Tookie in the wrangler Tonight I ain’t dancing it’s hard to boogie with the banger, danger (Verse 4 – Don Q) Ni**as tried to book me for my watch Me and Boogie in the drop, got my hoodie and my Glock Couple years back, we was cooking cookies in the pot I had a 30..10, I was a rookie in the spot Fast forward to now, I’m the ni**a that hoes chose Bartenders and old hoes giving me low blows Catch me whipping the Rolls slow Lady approach go Cuban is rose gold, with 4 hoes The game takes, you the king I remain is I done ate dinner, shaked crab on the same place Still…coffin Hit your cartwheel, but I make your cart wheel til the tar peel School of hard-knocks, I got…selling hard Never cooperated, I ain’t taking Ni**as gon try to throw dirt if they want But every rhyme that you hear be the verse of the month What, Don (Verse 5 – Casanova) You know where the Nets play out in Brooklyn Shooting ni**as in broad day Running off on the plug ni**a, that’s no way Out in Brooklyn getting bricks from the Oyes Two time, comma that Brooklyn bring that money back Try and catch me slipping in Lust Left with a hundred pack Shooters like a cornerback Money long, I ordered that You should never thought of that Now you can’t get your daughter back