Foreign Song Lyrics

Young M.A – Who Run It Freestyle Lyrics

Young M.A – Who Run It Freestyle Lyrics

Yung ma

Who Run It Freestyle Lyrics by Young M.A

Oh yeah
Oh, this what we doing
Shout out to the homie G Herbo,
You know I had to get on this, man

Big pimping, spending Gs
Twenty racks in the back of jeans
Tatted sleeves, Patek freeze
Pretty n—a, that indeed
(?) with me, black and cream
African, Japanese
I just call it blackanese
I’m just gonna tap that and leave
I don’t leave the house unless I got a bag waiting for me at the front door
If you short on my cash, thirty n—-s hopping out a Uber truck though
Don’t try your luck, hoes down to f–k
Top floor of the hotel
Smoking weed in the bathroom, put the shower on so it’s no smell
Street cold, don’t tell

But I’d rather live where it’s no hell
It’s funny how hating n—-s be the ones who names ring no
Oh well, my b—h bad
And her p—y got a soap smell
She a model, nah she a model
She a little bougie
And I’m just tryna put this big wet tongue on top of that coochie
Earlier she a little mad at me, she a little moody
Sometimes I don’t understand the b—h, she a little confusing
Like half the I don’t even be doing s–t, and she be assuming
Like I ain’t loyal or something
You act like I don’t call you or something
You act like you a little spoiled or something

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Is you hot like you boiling something?
So all you rappers it’s a rap for you like aluminum foil or something
Better crown her, came from the ground up, from the soil or something
Been ’bout it, every n—a with me popping like oil or something
I was slacking, had to get on track like I’m recording or something
I hear a lot of talk, but honestly they ain’t really talking ’bout nothing
And nowadays I don’t trust a thing, so I ain’t really sure about nothing
I just f—-d your b—h in Givenchy flip flops
And yeah we spending money, but we also spin blocks
Bend blocks, shout out my n—a Jezz, big opps
They ain’t open up them doors, I had to pick locks

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Free Bobby, free Rowdy, free the whole 9
Got lit on my own n—a, didn’t need a cosign
It’s Red Lyfe, no red lights, green lights go time
But before you get on the road, n—a make sure you know your road signs
He asked did I f–k his b—h, I said “uh yeah n—a, four times”
My sex drive longer than my show lines, make her c-m in no time
RL that’s the (?) sign, ’t come in, we got closed sign
Can’t hang here, this is not a clothesline
F–k around and get (?)
No ghostwriter, I wrote mine

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Wrote the whole rap and the whole rhyme
They like “MA, where the album at?”
I just need a lil’ more time
I got guns, but if I ain’t using it, no need to show mine
Don’t mean I won’t blow, ma
B—h n—a, you could blow, ma
In the club I drink out the bottle, ain’t no need to even pour mine
Stripper b—–s don’t like me ’cause I get money and don’t throw mine
Y’all n—-s can’t f–k with me, ain’t gotta say it, you already know why
If I had a d–k, you could suck it
If I had nuts, you could hold mine

I said, if I had some nuts, you could hold mine
If I had some nuts, you could hold mine
F–k y’all n—-s
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh

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