RUN TOO

Yo More lighter flicks (I need lighter flicks) We well acquainted at this We well acquainted at this point (yeah) Past first date Ooh, aight, let's do this shit Oh, shit (Yeah, ooh, yeah) dropped my phone, dropped my phone (Ooh) uh I must be one of the lucky ones Great dick, so-so credit, live life light, headed I'm the madness to the method, man From a place without no Wu-Tang Clan But we got Ku Klux Klans all up through there Hustle all we do here Tryna make shake 'til it's popping like a root beer Made this in a leap year, next year I'll be nuclear Hella high falutin', hot boxing two stories I'on give a fuck 'bout who here Always been the underdog it's over for that bullshit Born with the skillset, built up the toolkit Got the pocket presence, it's a breeze on some Drew shit Hate when niggas talk but when they see you they don't do shit I'm a simple man but even that can be confusing Always said my checkered past would have 'em jumping to conclusions Can't have nobody around me that ain't making contributions All I do is run, get high, fuck, and make music (ooh) What a life, what a life, what a life this is Who can I, who can I open up to? What a life, what a life, what a life this is Who can I, who can I open up to? I'm tired of niggas I'm tired of motherfuckers underachieving Scared of their greatness, wasting their breathing Spoiling blessings Pissing they chances down the drain Sitting own they hands and wondering why their situation ain't change I'm tired of crackers, I'm tired dealing with you racist bastards Salty-asses, can't focus on nothing else but me I'm tired of haters frightened by something I'ma be 'Cause my purpose got you feeling worthless, now we enemies I'm tired of sleeping, tired of creeping, tired of hoes Tired of hot-ass summers with crooked cops on patrol Shawty tryna do her best as she slide down this pole But she see my mind gone, I'm all alone So who can I open up to? Prolly this bottle This sack of weed it talks to me We eye to eye, we knee to knee Praying for some shit ain't sure if it exist Huh, yeah, we lucky if we wind up with a loyal bitch Yeah, we slide out our moms, how quickly we forget Here surrounded by lies and plastic like a zip here Hope you ain't got this image of me in your head The chosen son, the one you meet after you dead The holy one, no blemish, not a stain on his linen Picture perfect, perfect image Nigga, that ain't how I'm living Nigga, that ain't how I'm living So go on, put your fingers in the sky for the sinners What a life, what a life, what a life this is Who can I, who can I open up to? What a life, what a life, what a life this is Who can I, who can I open up to? (To) What a life, what a life, what a life this is (I wanna know) Who can I, who can I open up to? Ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh Ooh-ooh, oh, ooh Ooh-ooh, oh, ooh Ooh-ooh