“What Else”
Maybe a cup of lean (What else)
Beat the sprite up (What else)
Gonna make it bleed (What else)
I bought one thing (What else)
Okay, maybe a couple of things (What else)
Uh, Saks Fifth (What else)
Then I hit double G (What else)
Then I hit Louis V (What else)
In that order
Bitch, I’m so important
These Diors imported
Nigga, I could pay your mortgage
Fuck it I’ma spend that shit on your daughter
She calling me daddy, she prolly got dad issues
You should be a better father
Damn, zooming in a go-kart
Love lean but I really hate pop
Love pop but I really love rock
Love peace but I really love Glocks
These niggas must love headshots
Think it’s sweet ’cause the sad songs out
Took two W’s rolling off an E, that’s a god damn smackdown
I don’t know, I think I run it right now
Real shit be a hundred right now
19 years old, number nine on the Billboard, nigga like how
I’ma be number one next week, trust me
Won’t fuck your bitch ’cause I heard that she musty
Hundred round drum on the choppa it’s bustin’
Word to your mom, that bitch crusty
Shit on a fuck ass nigga then flush it
AK in the back got a car like a Russian
These niggas be talkin’ to narcs or somethin’
How the fuck else my homie get busted
Gonna free my nigga outta the dungeon
When he get out, nigga, it’s bustin’
Run up bands, gain clout
Smoke out the pound, I’m on the clouds
Off a couple beans (What else)
Maybe a cup of lean (What else)
Beat the sprite up (What else)
Gonna make it bleed (What else)
I bought one thing (What else)
Okay, maybe a couple of things (What else)
Uh, Saks Fifth (What else)
Then I hit double G (What else)
Then I hit Louis V (What else)
In that order
First you get the baking soda then you get the water
Nigga fuck with my moolah, then he gettin’ slaughtered
If you pussy then you pussy, ain’t no getting harder
I put that shit on my mom, speaking of moms I could fuck your mom
Talkin’ that shit get the firearm
They’ll be in your crib like “Fuck your moms”
Kill everybody but your mom (Yeah)
I just said it yeah, so I meant it yeah
That nigga trippin’, catch him slippin’, we gon’ get him yeah
And she screamin’ “Ricky”
Thick ass bitch tryna get a lap dance screamin’ “Nicki”
I am done for now have y’all niggas had enough
I’m a real nigga, I ain’t with that talkin’ tough
Fuck with us, we call your bluff
Off a couple beans (What else)
Maybe a cup of lean (What else)
Beat the sprite up (What else)
Gonna make it bleed (What else)
I bought one thing (What else)
Okay, maybe a couple of things (What else)
Uh, Saks Fifth (What else)
Then I hit double G (What else)
Then I hit Louis V (What else)
In that order
Uh, Saks Fifth
Then I hit double G
Then I hit Louis V
In that order
Uh, Saks Fifth
Then I hit double G
Then I hit Louis V
About Juice WRLD Lyrics
Artist: Juice WRLD
Related Songs: We Don’t Get Along Lyrics
Born: December 2, 1998, Chicago, Illinois, United States
Died: December 8, 2019, Advocate Christ Medical Center, Oak Lawn, Illinois, United States
Full name: Jarad Anthony Higgins
Buried: December 13, 2019, Homewood Memorial Gardens, Illinois, United States
Record labels: Interscope Records, Polydor Records