f/ O-N-E, Mr. Drastic[Z-Ro]I pledge allegiance, to getting my cash onEither ligalo with a glock, and my mask onI gotta go get it, cause I got an appetiteDown to run up in your residence, and blast on sightIt's for the paper it's for the bread, it's for the feddySeventeen stash spots, between the Dodge and the ChevyFuck the whole wide world, it's just me and my songsConstantly moving on, to find a better place to call homeKeep running, but always look where you goingWhether it's sunny or snowing, them people'll kick your do' inThey keep coming, I had to gather up my rocksAnd relocate blocks, and set up my shop away from the copsCause I'm a hustler, slash all thatWith plenty Christian in the background, for fall backsThat mean I got a plan, B-C and D-E-F-G exceteraZ-Ro running game, two thousand two steps ahead of you[Hook]Keep runningKeep on running[Mr. Drastic]I'm on a whole nother level, now I'm running for the devilWhen I finally get the shovel, I'ma bury him maynBringing true to the game, so I'm putting God firstNo burden I can't handle, I done been through the worstNow it's time for the better, me and Ro getting setterDrop the top in rainy weather, and I'm loving it maynFrom the cradle to the grave, no more being a slaveWhen you see me best believe me, I be off of the chainGripping the grain doing the thang, with Gene and DayScreaming my name, before I go on I make em payBusiness first, making sure my money is straightI'm loving the hate, because it's keeping food on the plateIt's later and Ro, yeah you know we running the showGetting the do', rapper slash CEOWherever I go, I always be the number one stunningSo you better keep on running[Hook - 2x][O-N-E]Everyday is a struggle, so I gotta get up and get itI'm dodging the federalies, trying to stack my mill ticketIt's wicked up in these streets, if you don't work you don't eatThat's why my eyes are wide open, never falling asleepI roll O-N-E deep, cause I don't need no niggasThey hold you down everytime, when you trying to stack figgasI'm clutching chrome plated triggas, that's keeping these bitches runningFaster than Forest Gump, that twist and turn when they comingI been a hustler for a hustler, was even thinking of hustlingAnd sold every kinda drug, and that's the end of discussionI'm not trusting nan nigga, nan bitch or friendBecause they all turn fraud, in the god damn endI'm dropping rhymes and wreckes, and my sixteens is coldNo baking soda it's over, I'm mixing O-N-E do'When it's finally wrapped in plastic, then shipped to the storesWe'll be them seven figga niggas, O-N-E and Z-Ro[Hook - 4x]
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