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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
JID
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
John Welch
Songwriter
Peter Mudge
Songwriter
Destin Route
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Nice Rec
Producer
Raúl Chirinos
Recording Engineer
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Christo
Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Act 1, scene 4
Yeah
Run, Ricky, run
Run, ****, run
Jump, ****, jump
Come here they come
Run, run, run, run
Gun with the drum
Bum bitty bum
Slump in the trunk
My city go dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb
151 rum and a blunt
Young **** numb
Numb, numb and he got a little gun
A little bitty killer really doin' it for fun
Give him a little bit and he'll get a **** done
[Verse 2]
Son of a god, son of a bitch
Son of woman and man, son of a son
In a sunken abyss, summon a plan
Please come with a script
Cover my back, cover man
Please come with a blitz
Look at the stats, JID like a magician
Fuck that, this some real ass shit
I paid blood for this
Takin' cheese from the government
Cereal boxes with the bugs in it
Hand me down, that my brother's brother shit
Don't compare me to no other other ****
In the city, boy, they say they fucking with you
Heebie jeebie, that's a bit disgusting, but I get it
I'm full attention, full of spirit, but full of shit
Standing next to Lil Tay when that bullet hit him
Shit, I miss him
I wish that that bullet missed him, but it didn't
And since I been living with it like a sickness
Intimate, infinite rhymes, give me the baton
A ticking ticking time bomb, takin' the finish line
Look alive, look in my eyes
Look at you **** tryin'
And you dumb dumb, better run run cause we fryin' em
Eastside, where ya from, from **** wildin'
So be silent before my **** creep silent with street knowledge
Complete nonsense, delete comments online, all lies
We see violence every day in my eyes
They killing my ****, die, ****, die
Pull up with the fire, get 'em ****, it's eye for an eye
If we gotta ride, fuck it, ****, ride for the ride of ya life
Diabolical minds, I don't mind it, I like it, I like it, I love it
I fuck with you, you a thug, I'ma thug with you
We can knuck, we can buck if a **** fuck with you
I got love for you, out the mud with you, off the muscle
[Verse 3]
Run, Ricky, run
Run, ****, run
Jump ****, jump
Come here they come
Run, run, run, run
Gun with the drum
Bum bitty bum
Slump in the trunk
My city go dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb
151 rum and a blunt
Young **** numb
Numb, numb and he got a little gun
A little bitty killer really doin' it for fun
Give him a little bit and he'll get a ****
Written by: Destin Route, John Christopher Welch Ii, John Welch, Peter Mudge