Luyện nghe bài hát Run Up On

[Intro: Joey
Yeah, run up on ya bitch
Probably run up on ya bitch

[Verse 1: BADA$$]
Lord, can I get a bad
High class whip, be above the
north west, that two seater Kardashian
Type to me brain up in the red light traffic
And keep ya head up, that blasting
Face two stacks and then be back into this
No time to relax, I need someone to count cash with
That match with, give me I'm askin'
The lady in the appear beast on that mattress
That's it, you're the only one I'm trying to with
But you could be a or fat (ass)et
How real is ass miss? Bend that shit backwards
Hit one backwood, crack the like a password
Bet that pussy's word is master
Ask her, my rocker til I made that astronaut
That's NASA thought, be that young fly, one
the seeds, please, but you can't catch me slipping, hon

[Hook: Varner]
So let's just ride
We die today
Got no to waste
So roll with me, baby
or die
Always by side
Until the end of
Driving me

2: Joey BADA$$]
First first, I, Joey
Freaks all the honeys, mommies, the playboy
The hoes me, get down before the money
Just know shit could get ugly, but whether it rain or
Just worry, chinchillas in February
Vanilla, that's when you
Check the itinerary it's necessary
Keep my baby straight, my lady lace
The Margiela to
Fool less it's planned and everything is in
So hit the gas and go
It's no sleep til Brooklyn, beastie boy
And she can't stop looking, she like it raw
Real spitter and all and the word of mouth
And let her sit in the jaw
I'm so nasty, please just walk me
So to grab it, I gotta have it
We could be living lavish so me, girl, right away
We could hit the bank then to the hideaway
Is you riding, riding me?
Is you
Is you riding, with me?
Is you

[Verse 3: Bronson]
Getting head in the whip and not it
Velour shorts set, half Arabic
I sit in dove room candle lit
little mama handle it
Or you could leave the sandals on and pull your up
I really reading Word Up
Beat, see me on the cover soon, fold out posters
Hanging on your shorties
I still be fucking half my age when I'm 44
Young skin, a personality
Hard dick, million dollar
These cheating refs fouls on me
the fucking whistle off in his ass, now hit the road, Jack
Hop off the bozack, the .44
You'll need low jack to your whole back
Euros'll get down, you know
Swimming and throwback
Yeah, you know