Boulevard Mitch - Dark Run Lyrics

      

Dark Run
by Boulevard Mitch

Huh, damn, huh

Verse
Damn, stressing late night, my plug ain't answer
Don't hit my blunt if you ain't ready for asthma
I'm with my robbers and a big kablammer
Get in the kitchen with your arm and hammer
Hit a headshot with my arm and hammer
Yo bitch say I'm a charming character
Plastic bag for the za I'm tearing it
Glock by the belt, you know that I'm wearing it
When you see yo opp, you can't be fearing him
Blowin' on loud so I ain't even hearing him
Inside the house trying to get high, I'm bored as fuck
Minivan, blick, I tour the gun
I ain't smoked that, I swore on my love
I know I'm a fuckin' lying fuck
Heavy artillery turned him to a dying fuck
No wrinkles in the shirt, gotta iron it
New bic lighter for the za firing it
We 9 blunts in now it's tiring
Comе work in my trap, I'm hiring
Hop out the v nigga we get to firing
I gеt to the cheese Jit say I'm inspiring
You can't see the pole, so don't even try
I'm mixing up drink right next to Bill Nye
I hit up my cracka, he the pill guy
He got 2 for 15, 1 for 5
If my legs broke, I'm still gon' slide
If my gun broke, you still gon' die
Cause the other gun right here on my side
Crooks, cons, and villains, they on my side
Dark drip on, I blend in
Told the fine hoes to bring yo friends in
Nike check on my feet, where I count up a check up
Get you a vest, cause we hit the chest up
Strong throat bitch, be working her neck up
I peep through the blinds, grab my gun, he get wet up
Joke's on him, he ain't know he get set up
4-4 Bulldog, I ain't putting my pet up
Jit slow down, say he want a Beretta
Huh, damn