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Artiest: key glock Songtekst: who run it (freestyle)

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Origineel

[Intro] Gang shit No lame shit Ayy you know we been doing this shit nigga Yeah, yeah [Verse] Little nigga, big bands, think I need hammer pants Hop in and I hit the gas, yeah bitch I did the dash Hittin' these hoes like running backs, my bad, who ho is that? I be turnt up to the max, I broke the thermostat Yeah, I be fresh as hell, make a bitch stop and stare Colder than a polar bear, came off of welfare Now I'm out in Bel-Air, killin' shit where the chair? Ran it up, didn't use the stairs, I'm on another level I wake up with the birds, yeah I gotta get a check Never fall off, yeah, that's what mama said I gave her a couple racks, yeah, and my mama said Boy you better not put a bitch before your bread I got gold gold on my throat, diamonds in my teeth (ice) Clarity, clarity, clarity, clarity, all this ice on me (ice) Got this bad bitch with blonde hair, I call her Russian Cream And I got that baby chopper, I'll rock your ass to sleep Can't stand me, take a seat (ho), designer head to feet, yeah Everything on fleek, Cartier on me, yeah I dress like a geek, yeah, boy your swag is weak, yeah That shit is so cheap, yeah, my shit overseas, yeah I'm fly like a butterfly and I sting like a bee, yeah Call me Glock Ali, yeah, diamonds fighting like Tina Turner, bitch I turn up, Royal Rumble Thirty niggas with me and you know they ready to burn you Knuck if you buck, run up and you get done up No I'm not from Louisville, but bitch I keep my slugger Straight up out the jungle, ain't no talk or tussle Got no time to scuffle, I'm 'bout my chips like Ruffles Workin like a butler, ain't no more struggle Tell these niggas catch up, tennis chains mustard Ran up my racks, run and tell that Ran through a bag and got that shit right back These niggas ain't doing shit, these niggas ain't talkin' jack You niggas ain't running shit, this chopper make you run a lap [Outro] Yeah Glizzock

 

Vertaling

[Intro] Gang shit No lame shit Ayy je weet dat we deze shit doen nigga Yeah, yeah [Verse] Little nigga, big bands, think I need hammer pants Hop in and I hit the gas, yeah bitch I did the dash Hittin' these hoes like running backs, my bad, who ho is that? I be turnt up to the max, I broke the thermostat Yeah, I be fresh as hell, make a bitch stop and stare Kouder dan een ijsbeer, kwam uit de bijstand Nu ben ik in Bel-Air, shit aan het maken, waar is de stoel? Ran it up, didn't use the stairs, I'm on another level Ik word wakker met de vogels, ja ik moet een cheque krijgen Never fall off, yeah, that's what mama said Ik gaf haar een paar rekken, ja, en mijn moeder zei Boy you better not put a bitch before your bread I got gold gold on my throat, diamonds in my teeth (ice) Clarity, clarity, clarity, all this ice on me (ice) Got this bad bitch with blonde hair, I call her Russian Cream And I got that baby chopper, I'll rock your ass to sleep Can't stand me, take a seat (ho), designer head to feet, yeah Everything on fleek, Cartier on me, yeah Ik kleed me als een nerd, ja, jongen je swag is zwak, ja Die shit is zo goedkoop, yeah, my shit overseas, yeah Ik vlieg als een vlinder en ik steek als een bij, yeah Noem me Glock Ali, yeah, diamonds fighting like Tina Turner, bitch I turn up, Royal Rumble Dertig niggas met mij en je weet dat ze klaar zijn om je te verbranden Knuck if you buck, run up and you get done up Nee ik kom niet uit Louisville, maar bitch ik hou mijn slagman Straight up out of the jungle, ain't no talk or tussle Ik heb geen tijd om te vechten, Ik ben bezig met mijn chips zoals Ruffles Workin like a butler, ain't no more struggle Vertel deze negers dat ze moeten inhalen, tennis kettingen mosterd Ran up my racks, run and tell that Ran through a bag and got that shit right back Deze nikkers doen niets, deze nikkers praten niets You niggas ain't running shit, this chopper make you run a lap [Outro] Yeah Glizzock