Mereba - Heatwave lyrics

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Mereba - Heatwave lyrics

Run, run, run You better run, run, run like a demon chasin’ you Run, run ’til your face is blue Run, run Run, run You better run, run, run like a demon chasin’ you Run, run ’til your face is blue Run, run For your momma’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 k**in’ n***as See it as you see it in your skin boy And they clips got the chips boy They got that heat on they hip, yeah And they can’t wait to let it rip boy Okay, 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 streetlights I fall flat like I’m trying out for track ‘Cause they beat a n***a blue just for loving 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 heater on his hip, yeah And he evil so he might just let it rip, yeah And I know how to hold nobody s**t, yeah So why the f**k the cop is on my d**k? Yeah, be clear It’s gon’ be a long, long summer Tomorrow’s never promised and I sometimes really wonder When they tell me “keep the peace” do they mean click-clack? I know we’re looking forward but I gotta watch my back Run, oh woah Run, run You, you, you better run Run, ooh Long Summer, long Summer, long Summer Long Summer, it’s gon’ be a heatwave A long Summer (You better, run, run, run, run, oh) Hot Summer, our Winter’s like Summer (Yeah yeah) Long Summer, long Summer, long Summer (Oh, make it home ‘fore you momma, ooh) Long Summer, it’s gon’ be a heatwave A long Summer In our Winter, they k**in’ n***as He got that heater on his hip Clip that’s what this is He don’t shoot to miss, click-clack, click-click Got that heater on his hip Clip that’s what this is He don’t shoot to miss, click, clack He got that heater on his hip Clip that’s what this is We don’t shoot to miss, click-clack, click-click Got that heater on his hip Who gonna be crying? Your momma or mine? Your momma or mine? See it as you see it in your skin boy And they clips got the chips boy They got that heat on they hip, yeah And they can’t wait to let it rip boy

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