Three 6 Mafia
Who Run It Remix
[Hook: Chris Travis]:
These bitches ain't run, shit but they mouths
These n***as ain't run, shit but they mouths
These bitches ain't run, shit but they mouths
These n***as ain't run, shit but they mouths

[Verse 1: Chris Travis]
Put a n***a in a moutherfucking dropbox
Sleepin on rap n***as like its hopscotch
Got yo bitch bowin' down like its crockpot
N***as goin down fast like stop drop
Run Shit
No pass, I can't drop
N***as switch in my lane but I can't stop
Trash talk on your bitch like a raindrop
Then drop her ass off at the train stop
I'm rappin this shit, it get vital
These rappers be working with writers
Fuck yo bitch, I ain't even need to wrap it up
[?]
[?]
[?]
Pop pill on the plane, i'm blind
[?]
I ride like fast & furious
Neva text that bitch cause she curious
These n***as act like they ain't hearin us
Imma make these n***as look up to us
These rappers signed up for a couple bucks
Neva trust them when its one to trust
[?]
[?]
I stay fast, talking racks
Blew a stack on her back
Then I left it where it's at
Dressed in black
Never rat
Neva argue neva slack
Watch yo back and that's facts
Bitch we only fuck a track
And i'm straight from the south
Use to mob up on [?]
How you axe what i'm bout
When you ain't got shit or clout?
Pussy n***a what you bout'?
All I know, it ain't shit
Better watch yo fuckin mouth
I can end it in this bitch
Pullin up on a n***a
Get mysterious in dis bitch
Fuck that bitch
All that shit, she got the delirious in that bitch
Ion give a fuck bout shit
Imma motherfuckin piper
Like its UFC bitch
Imma mothafuckin striker

[Verse 2: TA Double Dolla]
They say I'm bougie and cocky
I say I'm just getting started
Threw a bag at my baby mama here you go, go shopping
Every other day I'm waking up to new money
Gettin deposits in
From negative to positive
Dollar boy just landed
In the city of angels
They wasn't fuckin with [?] if you lookin from one angle
Got these bitches tappin' out like my name is Kurt Angle


[Verse 3: Idontknowjeffery]
Point me out to who run it
Fuckin' man or a woman
I kick they ass in the stomach until they vomit from it
N***a I'm sick I'm bubonic and you and that bitch is platonic
Stab your ass in the stomach and clean the mess up with Comet
Fuck all that extra shit
I'm in the bed with a naked bitch and her head just twist like damn exorcist
What ya tryna posses me with
The way she suck my dick was an accident cause I ain't even have to ask the bitch
N***a I'm stingy as hell
I'm face my hoes n***a I don't even pass the bitch
And I shit on n***as on accident like I ate some laxatives
Try to impress me with that bullshit turn him to an acronym
N***a its Prick Harper
I'm a shit starter
And all that bullshit you talkin' make my dick harder
I treat a rapper like his father I don't text him I don't call him
I don't bother
N***a I let the Glock solve problems
[Verse 4: Xavier Wulf]
These rappers ain't runnin' shit but ya bitch
Who, where she at?
She at the crib tryna cook me something every damn day
Told her "bitch I do it better" by myself go move away
Here to stay
Up from now until whenever the fuck I say


Well I could I ain't never had a juug but I had a blunt to finish
You rap n***as still capping

Pulled up with a bitch so thick I'ma leave a little bit early just to hit

Serotonin too lit
I don't give a fuck 'bout you, him, them