Run Up On Ya (feat. Action Bronson & Elle Varner) (Bonus) Songtext - Joey Bada$$

Run Up On Ya (feat. Action Bronson & Elle Varner) (Bonus) - Joey Bada$$

[Intro: Joey BADA$$]

Yeah, run up on ya bitch like

Probably run up on ya bitch like

[Verse 1: Joey BADA$$]
Lord, can I get a bad bitch?

High class whip, be above the average
Headed north west, that two seater Kardashian
Type to give me brain up in the red light traffic

And keep ya head up, that 2Pac blasting

Face two sacks and then we back into this action

No time to relax, I need someone to count this cash with
That match with, give me what I'm askin'

The lady in the streets appear beast on that mattress

That's it, you're the only one I'm trying to mack with

But you could be a liability or fat (ass)et

How real is that ass miss? Bend that shit backwards
Hit one backwood, crack the pussy like a password

Bet that pussy's last word is master

Ask her, rode my rocket til I made that astronaut
That's NASA thought, be that young fly, nasty one
Swallow the seeds, please, but you can't catch me slipping, hon

[Hook: Elle Varner]
So let's just ride away

We could die today

Got no time to waste

So just roll with me, baby

Ride or die

Always by your side

Until the end of time

Driving me crazy

[Verse 2: Joey BADA$$]
First thing's first, I, Joey

Freaks all the honeys, mommies, the playboy bunnies

The hoes love me, get down before the money
Just know shit could get ugly, but whether it rain or sunny
Just never worry, chinchillas in February

Vanilla, that's when you ready

Check the itinerary whenever it's necessary

Keep my baby straight, peep my lady lace
The Margiela to Doneva

Fool less it's planned and everything is in control
So hit the gas and let's go
It's no sleep til Brooklyn, another beastie boy

And she just can't stop looking, she like it raw
Real spitter and all and that's the word of mouth
And let her sit in the jaw
I'm so nasty, please just walk past me

So tempted to grab it, I gotta have it

We could be living lavish so tell me, girl, right away
We could hit the bank then escape to the hideaway

Is you riding, riding with me?

Is you riding?

Is you riding, riding with me?

Is you riding?


[Verse 3: Action Bronson]
Getting head in the whip and not crashing it
FILA Velour shorts set, half Arabic
I sit in dark room with candle lit
Tell little mama handle it

Or you could leave the sandals on and pull your skirt up
I really remember reading Word Up
Tiger Beat, see me on the cover soon, fold out posters

Hanging on your shorties wall
I still be fucking women half my age when I'm 44
Young skin, a winning personality

Hard dick, million dollar salary
These cheating refs calling fouls on me

Break the fucking whistle off in his ass, now hit the road, Jack
Hop off the bozack, the .44 clap
You'll need LoJack to find your ho back
Euros'll get down, you know that

Swimming trunks and throwback

Yeah, you know that


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