RUN ME DOWN
RUN ME DOWN

Giggs, Ghetts - RUN ME DOWN Lyrics

5
RUN ME DOWN Music Video

RUN ME DOWN Lyrics

Yeah, turn it up in the headphones
Who's messing with my mic?
Has someone binit?
Course no one's binit

Yeah, them bricks on the ship goes up and down
That bitch on my dick goes up and down
Better stick to the script 'til we comin' 'round
Gonna rain on your bricks and it's comin' down
It's a hit, it's a hit, got the summer sound
Got the game in a grip, got 'em runnin' 'round
Got my name on your lips and me comin' 'round
Never came with no tricks, had to dumb it down
But I came with a bitch and a bummy pound
And the mandem were bitch and they bogged me down
But my chick's lookin' sick in a yummy gown
Put her hands in my jeans and she shove it down
Little shoobs, little shoobs, little club in town
Got the goons in the place with the chubby rounds
Best stand over there, yeah them muggy bounds
Niggas jump out the pram, make the buggy bounce (Jheez)
Got a dozen down
Big Bad doesn't doubt (Nah)
Doesn't shout
That doesn't count
Got your hands in the air, put 'em fuckin' down
Gonna end up in lost and the fuckin' found
Got her hands in my face, yeah, she's lovin' brown
I'm the man in the place that they're runnin' down (Jheez)

Run me down
Run me down (Yeah, yeah)
Run me down
Okay, rub me down (Yeah, yeah)
Run me down
Run me down
Run me down
Okay, rub me down
Got the big CEO's and the taggies down
Did a show, sponsored clothes, put the shottas down
Yeah, I stuck to the code, nigga shot it down
Yeah I fucked on the road, nigga caught it down
Run me down
Run me down
Run me down
Okay, rub me down

Buff (Buff), that's gettin' bust (Gettin' bust)
That's gettin' beat up (Beat up)
That's gettin' rushed (Yeah, yeah)
Game in my hand (In my hand)
That's gettin' crushed
Clean up the mess
Dust pan and brush

Creep from the riddim like I'm venomous
Backyard full of skeletons
Nickname Sheldon
I already told you on Shellington
Dem man are soft, you know handle with care, delicate
Us man are armed, I swing off the chandelier and drop everything
Let's play a game called, "Who the fuck's madder"
Knife work doin' up bladders
Right turn, too many cameras
Turn back, hidin' my face, like I'm movin' embarrassed
That's how I maneuver with daggers
Takin' stripes and numerous badges
My niggas so mental
I don't know if they're stupid or savage
Bikes, I got a few in the garage
We'll ride on whoever's bangin'
Night king, I take the juice out the dragon
Might swing, and make a human a cabbage
Night wing, I'm like who wid' is active
It's G-H, I'm coming from the East Side
Old school Green gate, runnin' in my Levis
'Round here brethren nothin' at the seaside
Man gets stuck up and deep fried
With both gloves off, I punch up a beeline
Fuck it up and then rewind
Double clutch and look behind
Summer's up but I keep fires
Somethin' tucked like I'm Eli

Run me down
Run me down
Run me down
Okay, rub me down
Run me down
Run me down
Run me down
Okay, rub me down
Got the big CEO's and the taggies down
Did a show, sponsored clothes, put the shottas down
Yeah, I stuck to the code, nigga shot it down
Yeah I fucked on the road, nigga caught it down
Run me down
Run me down
Run me down
Okay, rub me down

Writer(s): Nathaniel Thompson, Ray Illya Fraser
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Downtown Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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