This beat is to be used, violently - weapons not included
|
|
[Sheek Louch]
|
Double platinum never; still on the grind though
|
Playin my position, watchin behind though
|
D-Block'd out, must I remind yo
|
Benjamins walk with me, two guns y'all can see
|
Money pile, wild out, nigga who want what
|
Every year it's somethin new for you to shake your butt
|
Get on yo' strut, you feelin me soldier?
|
Ten hun (ten hut) ten years strong, the record is long
|
Coulda been a lil' richer if I rocked a thong
|
Anyway; the Coupe is gray
|
Sheek startin to get hot in the hood like the month of May
|
My dog tags tangle, white tee on
|
Paul Wall bottoms, big Jacob bangle
|
One dutch of evil and piney
|
Matter fact, gimme some 'gnac and I'ma chase that with a Heine'
|
And make sure you pour some for my thugs behind me (yeah)
|
|
[Chorus 2X: Styles]
|
Hustle 'til the sun up (run up)
|
Keep comin 'til you come up (run up)
|
E'rybody keep your gun up (run up, run up, run up, run up, run up)
|
|
[Styles]
|
Run up you gon' die like the beeper call
|
Dawg this is Styles, I ain't Nas but I "Ether" y'all
|
You should hide when you see that ride creep along
|
Cause it's on when the doors open - shut his lights out
|
He got his mans, but I'm fuckin get 'em all coffins
|
Lil' niggaz is now mine they swallow the barrel find it
|
Bet that'll open 'em up (I bet)
|
And they all act tough, 'til you pokin 'em up
|
Nigga - run up like you came for a marathon
|
Body's in the suitcase, head's in the carry-on (ha ha)
|
You food to a real nigga, rude with the steel nigga
|
Give a fuck; you shoulda chilled nigga (you shoulda chilled)
|
All I know is puttin in work
|
Get the new M-5, nigga put in the work
|
Crack a vanilla dutch, nigga put in the earth
|
Run up I keep the gun up, get put in the earth - what?
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Sheek Louch]
|
M-6 revvin, all black on the cell phone
|
And all that like I'm talkin to Devon (Knight Rider)
|
Shorty wanna hang out of the car (uh-huh)
|
Yellin out money ain't a thang, holdin up a mayonnaise jar
|
of that stick-ickalous, ridiculous
|
Comin down Harlem, foggin up the whole St. Nickalous (yeah)
|
Red monkies on them pretty things
|
Wipin off ash, showin Scado my Diddy things
|
Pay attention (yeah) gon' miss if I squench in
|
Just us bein there is causin tension
|
No beef, no wreath nece', it get real messy
|
Pull a rifle on you boys like Uncle Jesse
|
I'm Sheek baby girl, one third of the LOX
|
Put you in the mink and out of the fox
|
Added a Honda into the box
|
Earring holes is stretched from the size of the rocks
|
Let's go
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
-----------------
|
Run Up
|
| Sheek Louch |