Heatwave (feat. 6LACK)

Run, run, run

You better run, run, run like a demon chasing you

Run, run till your face is blue

Run, run, run, run

You better run, run, run like a demon chasing you

Run, run till your face is blue

Run, run

For your mama's sake, run, run

Long summer, long summer, long summer, long summer

It's gon' be a heatwave, a long summer

Hot summer, our winter's like summer, yeah, yeah

Long summer, long summer, long summer, long summer

It's gon' be a heatwave, a long summer

In our winter, they killin' ****

See it as you see it in your skin, boy

And their clips got the shits, boy

They got that hip on their hip, yeah

And they can't wait to let it rip, boy

Ok, I ain't tryna die on this beautiful day

I couldn't stand the thought of not seeing your beautiful face

So I'ma run like I've been running the streets right

I mean, run like I just missed the streetlight

I fall flat like I'm trying out for track

'Cause they beat a **** blue just for lovin' that he black

My advice is run like Obama 'fore they catch you like Osama

Better run like a nose 'fore they catch you like a cold

He got that heat on his hip, yeah

He evil so he might just let it rip, yeah

And I know how to hold nobody shit, yeah

So why the fuck the coppers on my dick, yeah?

Be clear, it gon' be a long, long summer

Tomorrow's never promised and sometimes I really wonder

When they tell me, keep the peace, do that mean click clack?

I know we're looking forward but I gotta watch my back

(Run, run, run) Ooh, oh

You, you, you better run (Run) ooh (Run, run)

Long summer, long summer, long summer, long summer

It's gon' be a heatwave, a long summer

Hot summer, our winter's like summer (No, no, no)

Long summer, long summer, long summer, long summer

(Oh, make it home for your mama)

It's gon' be a heatwave, a long summer (Ooh)

In our winter, they killin' ****

(They're killin' brothers, they're killin' sisters)

He got that heat on his hip, clippers with that shit

He don't shoot to miss, click-clack, click-click

Got that heat on his hip, clippers with that shit

He don't shoot to miss, click-clack

He got that heat on his hip, clippers with that shit

We don't shoot to miss, click-clack, click-click

Got that heat on his hip, so who gon' be crying?

Your mama or mine, your mama or mine?

See it as you see it in your skin, boy

And their clips got the shits, boy

They got that hip on their hip, yeah

And they can't wait to let it rip, boy