Big Pokey - Runnin' Da Red lyrics

(feat. MobStyle Crew) (Big Pokey:) What type of n***a eat, and don't get full I'm half gator, half dog I'm a crock bull With a appetite, if I snap tonight I'ma knock a b**h head, in his lap tonight I'm strapped tonight, extra clip in the glove Under the shotgun slugs, and a throw away snub When my pressure swell, n***az never live to tell That they jumped in the water, with a k**er whale That's deep homes, I'm bout to get my eat on Until a son of a b**h head, and his feet gone A mob n***a mask up, and get his creep on And make sho', that that hoe a** n***a sleep long Chiropractor, I pop n***az backs My hand size Mack, unlock six packs That's that back-back, move around dog Watch that crack back, you around hogs n***a (Hook x2:) If you see me with my heat, I got one in the head If you see me on the creep, I'm running the reds If my work ain't right, I'ma put one in his dreads One in his neck two in his chest, stomach and legs (k**a Kyleon:) Kick in your do', while you sipping a fo and you hitting the dro That hoe that's licking you low, she's hitting the flo' Better go to your safe, and be getting the do' Or them tires in your garage, and be getting the snow I thought you had work, it look like you been sniffing your snow That's when I'm lifting a fo', now he stiff in the snow And if that broad try to run, I'ma put six in that hoe Merck everybody in the vicinity, in case witnesses know Hop in the six and let's go, supply the licks at the sto' But make sho' that this blow kick do', at a continuous flow Better not be short on my work, or my Benjamin's bro Or your body'll get a permanent, injuring bro Bullets go in n***az fast, they ain't entering slow On your knees you begging your please, surrendering hoe I'm M-O-B-S-T-Y-L-E Got a lick for a ki', just make sure you contact me (Hook x2) (Grimm Rea:) You wanna play n***a, you better find somebody Or a whiteboy'll be jogging, and find somebody It stay personal with me, cause I live off respect You in this game playing foul, now I'ma give you a tech Not only your shirt wet, I'ma flood the block You speaking on n***az I eat with, get you dressed in a box And I don't care, if you hate it or love it Stone till I'm gone, n***a and I swear while I'm here I'ma thug it Only got one to live, so I'm go all out You cross the wrong n***az, therefore we fall out Don't try running in your house, I'll blow your do' all out 44-Mag, the reason that they bagged his body Your partnas don't care, they don't even ask about him Didn't know stupid n***a, you should of asked somebody (Hook x2) (D-1:) I'm running in your house, and I'm hitting your safe Any problems, the 4-4 hitting your face Act like a a**hole, and get a split in your face You kept talking, when I told you get in your place Now this SK got your soul, living in space If you ain't walking, then how you gon get in the race Been doing dirt twenty years, without getting a case And I don't care about your n***az, let 'em try to hurt me Get they wig pushed back, like Calvin Murphy I'm the kid balling, but I don't play for Jersey Pushing a Prowler, painted like a purple slurpee And I got what you need, from quarters to turkeys I'm with the Mob mo'f**er, don't leave me out I stay balling, even when the season out A young n***a that lay low, and love to bleed in droughts A dope game quarterback, I just feed the routes (Hook x2)