Nick Fine$$e - Road Runna

Glock grippers
Block spinners
Pot whippers
Hot Winters
Cold Summers, deleting old numbers
Running to the money like the road runner
Glock grippers
Block spinners
Pot whippers
Hot Winters
Cold Summers, deleting old numbers
Running to the money like the road runner

Colder than 30 degrees below zero
Ain't have no heroes
We looked up to villains
Niggas that was selling dope and doing killings
Robbing niggas, hopping fences
Dash on the police
Choppa blasting in the streets
Coroner bring the white sheet so now your past in underneath
They don't give my people opportunities so now we stranded
Government said fuck us and they still leave us abandoned
So we gravitate to bandos
Whipping up the crack rock, Glock loaded with ammo
Needles filled with heroine
They fearing the melanin
But my people cherish it
Don't think that the Black dollar is irrelevant
We control the market, we control the culture
We control everything when the day is over
But we never get our credit, so we die in debt
Black wealth for generations is the mindset
So let's run up this check 'til our last breath

Glock grippers
Block spinners
Pot whippers
Hot Winters
Cold Summers, deleting old numbers
Running to the money like the road runner
Glock grippers
Block spinners
Pot whippers
Hot Winters
Cold Summers, deleting old numbers
Running to the money like the road runner

Written by:
Nicholas Stroud

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find