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mista cain - running man lyrics

[intro]
still real n+gga sh+t right here
baton rouge to memphis
yeah (yeah)
i’m+ i’m the money man

[chorus: mista cain]
look, i’m the money man (money man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
running bands (run them bands)
watch me run them bands (watch me run them bands)
[?] the green, a hundred grand
no more hiding work up in the trash can
i’m the money man (money man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
like a wanted man (uh)
i’m the money man (the money man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
like a wanted man

[verse 1: mista cain]
fifty bands, fifty bands (fifty racks)
that’ll get you flushed, n+gga (for real)
fifty bands, fifty bands, yeah
that’s what got you flushed, n+gga
i can’t see how them hater have time to be haters (i can’t see it)
halftime, i lost a nine piece on the lakers
foreign b+tch, said your ten piece was so amazing (for real)
i still don’t know her origin, i think she black and asian
trigger finger on the scene, [?]
if money grew on trees, i’d grow a hundred acres (hundred acres)
i’m from the jungle, i see tarzan and alligators (yeah)
might aim it on a jet boat, [?]
baby can’t [?], that’s a lot of money
i told him, “son, when you grow up you gon’ have this money”
i remember i was on my knuckles with no money
last year i had that contraband, that mojo money
[chorus: mista cain]
i’m the money man (money man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
running bands (run them bands)
watch me run them bands (watch me run them bands)
[?] the green, one hundred grand
no more hiding work up in the trash can
i’m the money man (money man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
like a wanted man (uh, huh)
i’m the money man (the money man)
i’m running man (let’s go, i’m running man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
like a wanted man

[verse 2: young dolph]
a hundred bands (racks)
a hundred grand (racks, racks)
how you become a p+ssy? i don’t understand (what?)
i walk up in the spot like under man
i pitched him a twenty piece, underhand
if you ain’t whipping in a foreign, n+gga, what you riding in?
if he can’t look you in your eyes, then that n+gga lying
i spent all this f+cking money on cars, but i don’t ever drive ’em (huh, d+mn, ayy)
my lil’ n+ggas ruthless (yeah)
they [?] (for real)
i give ’em a dub, they come in the kitchen (where he at?)
they ain’t got no instagram, and they don’t take pictures (nah)
my wrist look like a motherf+cking bowl of glitter
[chorus: mista cain]
i’m the money man (money man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
running bands (run them bands)
watch me run them bands (watch me run them bands)
[?] the green, a hundred grand
no more hiding work up in the trash can
i’m the money man (money man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
like a wanted man (uh)
i’m the money man (the money man)
i’m running man (here we go, look)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
like a wanted man

[verse 3: mista cain]
my b+tch don’t ever have no patience, she need money now (now)
when i call, shorty coming on the dime (c’mere)
just left johnny (just left johnny)
bought my daughter some diamonds (bling)
touchdown, starting running, call it perfect timing (yeah)
back to them bands
them big boosie notes
i get money while i ride around [?]
i f+ck her then just dismiss her
i don’t think she know
that the only chick i love is my girl [?] (believe that)
umg (umg) (cainmuzik)
i’m still thuggin’
i got the same uzi (bow, bow, bow)
bang, bang, you’re f+cked boy
if you think i’m finna stop, meet me at the top
[chorus: mista cain]
i’m the money man (money man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
running bands (run them bands)
watch me run them bands (watch me run them bands)
[?] the green, a hundred grand
no more hiding work up in the trash can
i’m the money man (money man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
like a wanted man (uh)
i’m the money man (the money man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
i’m running man (i’m running man)
like a wanted man

[outro]
bow, bow
bow, bow
bow, bow
bow, bow
no more hiding work up in the trash can

- mista cain lyrics

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