Belichick ft. AC3 Run It Up Lyrics

Bitch I call the plays

Call me John Belichick

Yeah I call the plays

Call me John Belichick

Don't hit my phone

If you ain't tryna run a check

Ain't tryna run a check

I call the plays in the field

If we play we get 'em hit

Fourth and one

All my niggas down to blitz

Said she love me

I ain't really tryna kiss

Fuck her then I dip

Then I cross her off the list

Swear my K be spittin'

Yeah I think he got a lisp

Shotty got a kick

Pump and then I hit

I can't trust a nigga

I can always trust my wrist

I can move the pack

But make my money off a bitch

Tell me how she useful

I can't take her to the strip

Tryna conversate

I can't be friends with a bitch

(Friends with no... haha)

Heard he want the wok

Imma tax 'em for the script

(Tax em for the... yeah)

Heard he want the wok

Imma tax 'em for the script

Yeah he said he want that wok

So we go tax 'em for the script

I got thirty in this clip

Yeah this choppa make 'em flip

We eliminate the rats and clear the block

And the we dip

On harvard where it's bloods

But I be hangin' wit them crips

Fucked on a opp hoe

And left a pussy nigga pissed

Feelin' like my brotha juice

With all this ice up on my wrist

Niggas always actin' hard

But they be talkin' like a bitch

All my niggas bout that money

All my niggas gettin' rich

He too broke to pay his bond

We know he snitched when he got out

He went to meet the plug

But heard that switch when he got out

Can't fuck that nigga bitch

Because she fienin' for that clout

That hoe might get to tellin'

Put that Nina to her mouth

Can't fuck that nigga bitch

Because she fienin' for that clout

(Bitch I call the plays call me John Belichick)

That hoe might get to tellin'

Put that Nina to her mouth

Yeah I call the plays

Call me John Belichick

Don't hit my phone

If you ain't tryna run a check

Ain't tryna run a check

I call the plays in the field

If we play we get 'em hit

Fourth and one

All my niggas down to blitz

Said she love me

I ain't really tryna kiss

Fuck her then I dip

Then I cross her off the list

Swear my K be spittin'

Yeah I think he got a lisp

Shotty got a kick

Pump and then I hit

I can't trust a nigga

I can always trust my wrist

I can move the pack

But make my money off a bitch

Tell me how she useful

I can't take her to the strip

Tryna conversate

I can't be friends with a bitch

Heard he want the wok

Imma tax 'em for the script

Heard he want the wok

Imma tax 'em for the script