The Cratez - Runner lyrics

[hook: Rob White] All my runners lace your mu'f**in shoes cousin… (runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin') We're making runs, the dumb-dumbs hit the snooze bu*ton... (runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin') We paid dues f** paying dudes that do nothin'... (runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin') We keep it real in this sh** n***a, who's frontin? (runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin') [Verse 1: Rob White] Co's a street runner, [he] run the streets to find honeys Infiniti jogging suit, the sneaker size 20" Leather underwear and if I'm ever gonna share that wit a b**h She's probably unaware a n***a's rich Which tell you I don't treat, and I never been a trick (nah) That's Oktober's own way of getting chicks... (ha ha ha) I keep a team that have you messing with your dicks You keep that [Miami] Heat roster, your best is just a 6... Then I change [in]to the Lexus for the sprints I'm back and forth in newer rides I had to call it suicides.. Cause ain't nobody on my level that's everyday as you and I So when I start k**ing, I'm the dude that die.. For instance, yo, when Chargers got too cool for school I went and got cla**y out of principle, [I] skipped a grade on the kids I know When I got a "C," as the cla** Benz to roll.. That's "average" sh**, you know? [hook] [Verse 2: Rob White] It's got to be some rules to my runnin', I'll give 7 to you.. (one) Make'er GIVE you the p**y don't let her sell it to you (two) Don't buy her sh**, not even that first round She'll think of you as a trick, that's punting on first down.. (three) Don't holler at the 6's if your taste is dimes (four) Don't take a girl's digits, that's a waste of time (five) And don't waste your time waiting on your phone to start going off You just got to keep busy ho'ing off (six) f** showing off, [just] fu*k b*tchES Showing US you f** b**hes ain't SAYIN MUCH [i.e.] that top ten on ESPN's always the sickest Cause those things don't happen when they're playing much.. (seven) After you hit, THEN take her to lunch That's how we say, 'preciate the fact you let me cut to the chase No games, no lecture, or chase Runners don't run behind b**hes we just set the pace.. (keep up!) [hook] [Verse 3: Rob White] Now, let me take you on a quick jog, my Android kicks on Realest n***a runnin' "I do it" better than Big Sean "ain't nobody f**in wit my clique" except chicks, huh…? But I'm the only member present for this picture Presently I'm runnin' through Wichita, mad at son [why] This square guardin' his girl gettin his Knicks on.. If he turn his head, I turn him [into] President Nixon Now peace-sign your First Lady, your b**h gone.. She get my digits like she's trying to call a foul on me She know I'm different, the way I'm covered wit style homie I know she's different cause I got some flyer miles on me YET, she STILL took my phone number wit a smile for me Now this the part that ain't switching up Most chicks taking the pitch'll never hit me up They don't make contact cause they're married and won't swing OR They still don't know the love king is just a dream.. (wake up..) [hook]