About This Track
"Run It" is a single by clipping., from the album Dead Channel Sky, released 14th March 2025. The track is 4:59 long. It's filed under Hip-Hop/Rap. Full lyrics are available below.
About the Artist
Lyrics
Get the work in, get the work in, get the work in Get the work in, get the work in Get the work in, put it in the pot Mix the motherfucker 'til it rot Roll it 'til it fit into the needle Then you stick it in the middle of the hood And watch 'em run it Got a bag, got a bitch by the bar (by the bar) She bring the cash, catch a motherfuckin' star (fuckin' star) Pay the tab, pop another purple pack (purple pack) Slow it down enough So you can get the whirl back (whirl back) Pussy in the air, pussy poppin' on the floor (on the floor) Elevator up to 27, there she go (there she go) Two inside, two more say they on the way (on the way) Back to back, back up in the club to make the Jaw bone sore from the teeth grind Got too fast for the rewind Have to put it back piece by piece by Please mind the gap behind the black sheets Find sprinkles of sanity for the gums Vanity for the tongue, canopy for the cum Damn it, wanna be dumb Skin is itchin', you sittin' bitch in the back seat 'Til the switch flip and you're spillin' spit on the concrete Pill under the tongue and let it melt Catch the feeling for a minute by yourself When it's needles on the bottom of your feet You know the shit done made it down into the blood And you can run it Got a Jones, got a itchy trigger finger (trigger finger) Gotta go, Pablo got a couple stingers (couple stingers) Get a dab, let it get you straight again (straight again) Get a cab, didn't mean to wake up in the same clothes You been rockin' for a motherfuckin' week Don't let nobody get it twisted, you are not a fucking tweaker Put the shit designer, cook up in the beaker Put the shit designer, Gucci on the sneaker Jaw bone sore from the teeth grind Got too fast for the rewind Have to put it back piece by piece by Please mind the gap behind the black sheets Find traces of residue in the pots Etchin' you in the thoughts of every new city cop The ingenue was an opp Skin is itchin', you just a bitch with a bounty 'Til the switch flip and you suckin' dick in the county Aluminum in between the teeth Mean you probably got to get up out the street Get your connect on the phone and let him know You got the paper in your pocket for him And you need to run it Don-, don-, don-, don-, don- Don't it feel like god to you? Who's your daddy? Can he buy you what you want? This is what you want Don't it feel like god to you? Put that up inside, run it up inside Run it, get your life Got a deal, said they got a VIP (VIP) Got a vibe, never had to show ID (show ID) Gotta rush, got a water bottle ready (water bottle ready) Got a pill, drop and then shake it (shake it) Shake it (shake it), shake that shit round You all the way up and they thinkin' they down (thinkin' they down) Leave the club lookin' for that real shit (real shit) Grab a dub, can you catch the feeling? It's the Jaw bone sore from the teeth grind Got too fast for the rewind Have to put it back piece by piece by Please mind the gap behind the black sheets Find remnants of something inside your head Rusting and runnin' red, must've been nearly dead Then they came for the bread Skin is itchin' and twitchin', running a fat check 'Til the switch flip and you end up takin' your last breath Bloody on the inside of the lip Bite it every minute 'til it split Let the drip fall slowly to the floor Until there isn't anymore And you know that you need to run it
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
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