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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
Itʼs gon' be a heatwave, a long summer
All summer, all winter's like summer (yeah, yeah)
Long summer, long summer, long summer, long summer
Itʼs gon' be a heatwave, a long summer
And all winter, they killinʼ niggas

See they see sin in your skin, boy (yeah)
And their clips got the shits, boy (yeah)
They got that heat on their hip, yeah (yeah)
And they can't wait to let it rip, boy (yeah, okay)

I ain't trying to die on this beautiful day
I couldn't stand the thought of not seeing your beautiful face
So I'ma run like I been running the streets, right
I mean, run like I just missed the street light (yeah)
I fall flat like I'm trying out for track
Cuz they beat a nigga blue just for loving that he black (yeah)
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
He evil so he might just let it rip, yeah
And I know I don't owe nobody shit, yeah
So why the fuck the coppers on my dick, yeah? Be clear
It's 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 a click-clack?
I know we lookinʼ forward but I gotta watch my back

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

Long summer, long summer, long summer, long summer
It's gon' be a heatwave, a long summer (You better)
All summer, all winter's like summer (Run, run, run, run, run)
Long summer, long summer, long summer, long summer
(Make it home for your mama)
It's gon be a heatwave, a long summer
And all winter, they killinʼ niggas
(They killin’ brothers, they killin’ sisters)

He got that heater on his hip
Clip is with the shits
He don’t shoot to miss
Click-clack, click-click
Got that heater on his hip
Clip is with the shits
He don't do shoot to miss
Click, clack

He got that heater on his hip
Clip is with the shits
We don't shoot to miss
Click-clack, click-click
Got that heater on his hip
Who's gonna be crying
Your momma or mine?
Your momma or mine?

See they see sin in your skin, boy
And their clips got the shits, boy
They got that heat on their hip, yeah
And they can't wait to let it rip, boy

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