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Running the City (feat. Fly Guy Eli) Video (MV)




Performed By: Bxlyn_badguy
Language: English
Length: 4:09
Written by: Michael Monge




Bxlyn_badguy - Running the City (feat. Fly Guy Eli) Lyrics




Running the city we getting so rich
Chasing the bred and I'm f*cking your bitch
Look at the wrist and I'm feeling like Mitch
Dripping to hard can't tell that I missed

Dodging the feds caused they getting me pissed
Using the snow globe and taking the rift
Bringing my team up we taking a lift
Heading so far and we making these hits
Niggas are talking we making a diss
There's goes the baby and the tricks are for kids
Saying you make moves but always in the crib
Getting me tight... imma end you with the clips
Heading back home so the nigga went and dipped
Nigga was talking but wanted on the ship
Killing you with subs and not with my grip
Ya niggas are tight and I finished ya off

I'm a daredevil I always take risks
Grew up a rebel make you eat my fist
Severing the packs I just pass an assist
Niggas they mad but they all see my drip
I'm with all the static just come out ya crib
Look at the wrist it's so Icey it gliss
Ignorance is bliss but I love how I live
Pouring up cups I just love to take sips

Running the city we getting so rich
Shooting the 3 and I feel like Q rich
Smoking the gas I just blew down a zip
Making these hits there's not one that you miss

Making the moves you see what We do
Lighting the blunt and I'm passing it back
Counting the money While smoking the packs
Niggas are mad cause they hitting our jack

Swerving the lane you know where I stay
There's Few who remain im still out ever day
Gettin away always smoke MAry Jane
I can't take a break cause I got all the
Strains

F*ck those who hate I'm always well paid
Came up from a 8th now I smoke down them ps
Still rock with the same bros I see everyday
This ain't a game I don't aim at the screen
Come at ya face then u run home and scream
When I see the fake I hit fade-aways
I'm reaching some fame that you can't take away
Brooklyn Ny yea you know where I stay
Cooking up hits and there's still more to make

Running the city we getting so rich
Chasing the bred and I'm f*cking your bitch
Look at the wrist and I'm feeling like Mitch
Dripping to hard can't tell that I missed
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Running the city we getting so rich
Chasing the bred and I'm f*cking your bitch
Look at the wrist and I'm feeling like Mitch
Dripping to hard can't tell that I missed

Dodging the feds caused they getting me pissed
Using the snow globe and taking the rift
Bringing my team up we taking a lift
Heading so far and we making these hits
Niggas are talking we making a diss
There's goes the baby and the tricks are for kids
Saying you make moves but always in the crib
Getting me tight... imma end you with the clips
Heading back home so the nigga went and dipped
Nigga was talking but wanted on the ship
Killing you with subs and not with my grip
Ya niggas are tight and I finished ya off

I'm a daredevil I always take risks
Grew up a rebel make you eat my fist
Severing the packs I just pass an assist
Niggas they mad but they all see my drip
I'm with all the static just come out ya crib
Look at the wrist it's so Icey it gliss
Ignorance is bliss but I love how I live
Pouring up cups I just love to take sips

Running the city we getting so rich
Shooting the 3 and I feel like Q rich
Smoking the gas I just blew down a zip
Making these hits there's not one that you miss

Making the moves you see what We do
Lighting the blunt and I'm passing it back
Counting the money While smoking the packs
Niggas are mad cause they hitting our jack

Swerving the lane you know where I stay
There's Few who remain im still out ever day
Gettin away always smoke MAry Jane
I can't take a break cause I got all the
Strains

F*ck those who hate I'm always well paid
Came up from a 8th now I smoke down them ps
Still rock with the same bros I see everyday
This ain't a game I don't aim at the screen
Come at ya face then u run home and scream
When I see the fake I hit fade-aways
I'm reaching some fame that you can't take away
Brooklyn Ny yea you know where I stay
Cooking up hits and there's still more to make

Running the city we getting so rich
Chasing the bred and I'm f*cking your bitch
Look at the wrist and I'm feeling like Mitch
Dripping to hard can't tell that I missed
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Michael Monge
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Bxlyn_badguy

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