“RUN” Abhi The Nomad Lyrics

Katy Perry in this bitch, call it pop time
Automatic call block, never hit the hotline
Talk time zero on the mobile or the cell bricks
House made of rap money never had to sell bricks

We ain’t with that Evian or TED talk
This that 110 degrees where the dead walk, south side Madras we the shit till the jigs up
Only thing we got is a wicket or a sixer, sheesh
Rock that bata on my feet I’m a beast, got the Vada in my teeth and a fucking cup of tea
I don’t spill lil homie, pay my bills you don’t know me
Went from takeout rotis to eating pink eat raw poke
I pull the pin on y’all, you been-hardknocks
But now you making eggs for your kids while I been on call with labels
Been gone for two-three months my lady love my brown skin
I been cooking while y’all still not thawed goddamn
(This is where the hook goes)

They said they want that rough shit, yeah I give ’em some, son
Legendary trashman, rappers in my tum-tum
Marathon run shit
I be on my gump, son
Do it for the have-nots, nerds and the numb ones
Yeah I make a lump sum
I don’t need a handout I ain’t hit a slump once
This that wave, wave, hi and then dump them
Ride the wave way high and then run them

Never had a day job
I ain’t suitable for cubicles
Instead, I’m giving 16 bites with 5 cuticles
The set I’m in is silk sheet pillows and not the usual
You’re celibate, your dick be crying at all the funerals
I’m this guy:
Seen in the east of the Pasadena region from being a blip with a visa scheming I dipped, dived in it
Now I’m I’m legally lethal and brick by brick
I been beating em like these rappers beating they women

Over the head, I don’t make Ms
But I don’t bank empty
Shout to my dogs, beating the odds
How they gone make ends meet?
I don’t got Gods, I gotta problem
I gotta whole lot of problems
I walk in a room full of women they put up the wet floor caution sign
They want that “finer things in life shit”
On my Guy Fieri, dine her, drive inside that [?]
Fuck it I’m a dive in
Hair stay wavy like I’m Tony the tiger
I’m motherfucking vibrant

They said they want that rough shit, yeah I give ’em some, son
Legendary trashman, rappers in my tum-tum
Marathon run shit
I be on my gump, son
Do it for the have-nots, nerds and the numb ones
Yeah I make a lump sum
I don’t need a handout I ain’t hit a slump once
This that wave, wave, hi and then dump them
Ride the wave way high and then run them