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45 ah pack - road runner mihr lyrics

road runner mihr

mannn, i ain’t talked my sh*t in a minute
let me turn up, show y’all n*ggas how to walk some sh*t
i need 45 a yeaaaa

i need 45 a pack, n*gga i ain’t throwing deals
but you can go 3 for 25 with them x pills
b*tch stuffed a brick of cocaine, now she got the chills
me and tee on feet, double glocks on back*to*back drills
if we in a high speed, just sit back, you know i got the wheel
kd popped a perc, he turnt up, now he tryna k!ll
i am not your n*gga, you don’t gotta lie, b*tch, just keep it real
hit my dance, finna k!ll your ass, i feel like pennywise
do you see this dog sh*t in front your face? you gotta use your eyes
money running through my whole family, we got paper ties
rolled two blunts back*to*back, now i’m in the sky
need to stop talking so much sh*t before your ass die
the aroma from thе meth f*cked me up, i can’t еven drive

i just hit a big booty b*tch in a haunted house
bought an orange goldfish and i named his ass klous
b*tch, we can’t f*ck on the bed, i hit her on the couch
i think the b*tch got herpes, she got a bump on her mouth
shot a n*gga two times because his ass from the south
i don’t even play that sh*t, b*tch, i’m from the f*cking north
twelve years old is when i jumped off the f*cking porch
tryna hit a bad white b*tch just like bella porch
2025, b*tch, i’m driving in a fat ass porsche
b*tch said i’m 50/50, half human, half horse
cheated on my b*tch, but she gon’ stay, she can’t get no divorce
i asked her can she suck my d*ck, she said, “ooo, bae, of course.”
he wouldn’t let us in the crib, so we entered by force
told my b*tch she need to stop yelling because we indoors
tryna grow some weed, i’m adding crack because sun is not the source
i’m finna run off on my ven with his lil’ n*gga ass
the b*tch got a lil’ ass booty, so i gotta pass

hit a thick ass white b*tch, she f*cking for the cash
hit her ass 1,000 miles per hour, then i did the dash
tryna make some crystal meth, b*tch, i’m out here selling glass
you wanna learn how to have a slamming phone? come to class
yo b*tch all over my d*ck saying, “you da boss.”
acting real bougie, f*ck fiji, b*tch, i’m sipping voss
you wanna wear what i wear, but do you got what it cost?
n*gga got nasty sh*t in his t**th, i think he need to floss

i was tryna f*ck the b*tch in the woods and then we got lost
made his ass jesus 2.0, we put him on the cross
k!lled him, then we flipped him like a burger, his ass got tossed
b*tch, you cannot hit my wood because your lips glossed
i’m tryna f*ck that one b*tch again because her titties soft
i don’t know what it is, but i hit the b*tch in a loft
i’m finna hack your pc, i know i work for microsoft
trackhawk loud as h*ll, that b*tch don’t got no exhaust
punched a n*gga in the eye, he look like uncle ruckus
shot a n*gga in his leg, now he walking with some crutches
man, i like to be cool, but i’m really ready for destruction
told her pull her pants down, the b*tch need to follow instructions
you know i got my gun, so why the f*ck you think i’m not bussin’?
these n*ggas sick as h*ll, i really think they need some robitussin
stop tryna run, because when i blow, you is not ducking

n*gga tryna do the sh*t i do, he a copycat
i just made 20 in one day, can you copy that?
told her toot it up and she folded, that’s a floppy back
told her if she want my d*ck, she gotta bring me seven racks
if you want me to do a song with you, give me 80 packs
yo breath smell like sh*t, go to the store and get some tic tacs
and yo b*tch need her hair redid, ’cause i done pulled her tracks

- road runner mihr lyrics

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