Runner chords by J.R. Writer
Verse 1
D
I ain't just an artist,
Fm
D
I put foes under
Fm
When I hit the target, I unload thunder
D
Fm
That a turnin' on gunner
or a stone -cold fronter
D
Into the roadrunner
He outta here, shots and tears,
Fm
body wear
D
Skatin' off like he gresky
Fm
in some hockey gear
D
Bumpin' your gums to
Fm
pumpin' your tongue
I bump in the sun,
D
he'll jump out his ones
Listen, fuck where you from
Dm
or what you be come
Fm
D
A chump or a bum,
either way I'm jumpin' in funds
Fm
D
It ain't a damn thing,
Fm
you gettin' hand chained
D
I could raise more money
Fm
than a campaign
D
Watch a man rain,
Fm
cause it ain't a damn game
D
I'm buying champagne, nigga,
Fm
it's a damn shame
D
Hats rappin' bout squeezin' clips,
Fm
D
squeezin' gats
And when it lead to that
Fm
D
His feet are leadin' traps,
Fm
keep me out your measly raps
D
I stomp you out with knikes,
Fm
that's what I call a sneak attack
D
Get your sneakers taxed,
Dm
Fm
couple of your people slapped
D
Where you wanna meet me at?
Dm
Fm
I ain't with the meet and chat
D
You gon' need your straps,
same for your buddy
Fm
D
Since you came with your buddy,
Fm
you gon' label them cussy
D
I put loonies on your roof,
ain't got goonies
Fm
D
that'll shoot you for Canadian money
Fm
You better...
D
Fm
I ain't just an artist, I put foes under
D
When I hit the target,
Fm
I unload thunder
D
That'll turn a known gunner
Fm
or a stone -cold fronter
D
into the roadrunner
He outta here, shots and tears,
Fm
body wear
D
Skatin' off like he gresky in
Fm
some hockey gear
D
Bumpin' your guns,
the punk on your tongue
Fm
Now bumpin' his son,
D
he'll jump out his wounds
D
Listen, I stay round there
Fm
with Trey Pym's man
D
Fm
A clown there, he gon' see A -Round flair
D
He gon' stay there, I'm the nigga,
Fm
you gon' lay down stairs
D
When you play like a do -rag
Fm
and lay down here
D
Shake down where?
Gm
Fm
The NervaLion, word to Sire
D
I'll lay you in some dirt
Fm
D
like some fertilizer
I'm a work supplier,
Fm
dealin' with some strong crack
D
Once you see the combat
D
That's how they on track
Fm
Runnin' to his mom's shack
D
Pullin' signs of condacts,
Fm
put it on his bald cap
D
Fm
But it fall back, playin' with me homes
D
On his block, I look like
Fm
I got NATO on the phone
D
Lay it on your dome for playin' sick
Fm
D
Jay Slick, if you don't
believe in the God
Fm
Fm
Then you's a atheist
D
Got these haters sick,
Fm
what they even rappin' for?
D
I laugh at them and pass them off
Runner
J.R. Writer
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