“Yes Indeed (Freestyle)”
Run up on me then you catchin’ a funeral
I scratch it off write it in Roman numerals
I fucked that bitch in the back and I swear that I never loved her I just want to hit her
I fucked that bitch now I’m hitting her sister
Run up on me you get spin like a twister
Told you before I don’t fuck with these niggas
I got my hand on on my hand on my trigger
Imma go get ’em, she on my dick hoppin’, I’m callin’ her tigger
I tell her “go figure”
She shove through the Tommy’s, I’m talkin Hilfiger
Tommy on me, I ain’t talking Hilfiger
That bitch a gun
Run up on me, I got heat like the sun
Count up to 2 cause I am not the 1, uh
Better locked up, Akon
All my other niggas they gone
R.I.P to all they souls, condolences to all they moms, uh
That’s just how it is
I’m in the bank, makin’ it flip, talkin’ that shit
I hit yo bitch just like a lick
I’m with the shits, I pass the ‘Roc
Ain’t no assist, bitch on my cock
Run up on me then you get shot
I feel like Bishop, I got the Juice, back when the cut, callin’ it Pac, yuh
I’m in the cut with the nina
I’m wettin’ it up like this shit Aquafina
You run up on me then I’m servin’ em’ bullets like tennis balls
Nigga ain’t talkin’ Serena
All of my niggas get money for real
I do money for shows, I cash out on arenas
I take yo bitch, fuck her
Send to the cleaners
Run up on me then I’m killin’
I swear that my hand on my nina
Don’t want no smoke
All of these niggas ain’t nothin’ but jokes
Run up on me like a… like a Facebook post, lil nigga, you poked, uh
I’m a rich nigga, you broke, uh
Must be a pimp, you a ho, yah
Run up on me, let’s go
[Gunshot sounds] hop on go
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I’m finna catch myself, yeah, uh
Breath in and out, I had to catch my breath
Now imma spaz on they ass
I leave em’ leakin’ on maxi pads
Hotter than a nigga in New York with a bag full of clothes tryna catch a taxi cab
Run up on a nigga, that chopper blast
Told you I cannot do battle rap
Fuck ass nigga tryna battle that
Shaquille O’Neal rim rattle that
Niggas, they snitch, they tattle that
Send that shit back, damn
You must be dope, bitch I’m crack, yuh
Damn, a couple of grams, to be exact, yuh
Shit I’m young, rich and black, yeah, yeah
So you know they hatin’ that
I’m finna spaz on they ass and you know it
You run up on me then I’m shootin’, it’s over
I got a way with words, they call me a poet, damn
Run up on me then I’m soaking
That .40 on me and you know that it’s blowin, you know that I’m totin’
Your bitches are hoeing, you know that shit goin, uh
I met that bitch on the lowin’
I picked up in a hot rod, we smokin’, huh
Hotbox in the new whip with a new bitch
I don’t even know her name, yah
Run up on me, that’s okay
Got a AK on me, it’s at your brain, yah
I put my dick in your main, yah
I just may go snatchin’ chains, yah
Bring it back
I sell that shit to the gang
I sell that shit to the gang
Run up imma snatch yo chain
I sell that shit to the gang
Can’t you niggas see the difference
Everyday I On a different shit
I’m just tryna keep my distance, yeah
I’m just tryna keep my Distance, yeah
FUCK NIGGAS CANT GET WIT IT
TRANSFORM LIKE IM Witwicky
In a new car boy I’m quick wit it
With a white bitch and she still sniffing
From the shit I brought her last night
Jet lag from the last flight
Scuffed up the pair of black mikes
That I bought back in L.A
Switch it up kinda like a sex change
.40 on my hip like a gun range
Pull up on a nigga like OK
Man down bitch no mayday
Westwood I think I can rap forever
I think I can rap forever
No matter where I’m at
No matter the continent
I can probably rap wherever
I can spit whatever
I’ll probably take yo bitch whatever
They selling plays for the kid
They told me to pick whenever
Imma go in one more time
I drop that bitch like a dime
She fall in love with the words
Then she fall in love with the lines
It is a difference
It is a difference
(Between words in lines)
(Uneral funeral)
I’m just tryna catch a vibe
I scratch it off write it in Roman numerals
I fucked that bitch in the back and I swear that I never loved her I just want to hit her
I fucked that bitch now I’m hitting her sister
Run up on me you get spin like a twister
Told you before I don’t fuck with these niggas
I got my hand on on my hand on my trigger
Imma go get ’em, she on my dick hoppin’, I’m callin’ her tigger
I tell her “go figure”
She shove through the Tommy’s, I’m talkin Hilfiger
Tommy on me, I ain’t talking Hilfiger
That bitch a gun
Run up on me, I got heat like the sun
Count up to 2 cause I am not the 1, uh
Better locked up, Akon
All my other niggas they gone
R.I.P to all they souls, condolences to all they moms, uh
That’s just how it is
I’m in the bank, makin’ it flip, talkin’ that shit
I hit yo bitch just like a lick
I’m with the shits, I pass the ‘Roc
Ain’t no assist, bitch on my cock
Run up on me then you get shot
I feel like Bishop, I got the Juice, back when the cut, callin’ it Pac, yuh
I’m in the cut with the nina
I’m wettin’ it up like this shit Aquafina
You run up on me then I’m servin’ em’ bullets like tennis balls
Nigga ain’t talkin’ Serena
All of my niggas get money for real
I do money for shows, I cash out on arenas
I take yo bitch, fuck her
Send to the cleaners
Run up on me then I’m killin’
I swear that my hand on my nina
Don’t want no smoke
All of these niggas ain’t nothin’ but jokes
Run up on me like a… like a Facebook post, lil nigga, you poked, uh
I’m a rich nigga, you broke, uh
Must be a pimp, you a ho, yah
Run up on me, let’s go
[Gunshot sounds] hop on go
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I’m finna catch myself, yeah, uh
Breath in and out, I had to catch my breath
Now imma spaz on they ass
I leave em’ leakin’ on maxi pads
Hotter than a nigga in New York with a bag full of clothes tryna catch a taxi cab
Run up on a nigga, that chopper blast
Told you I cannot do battle rap
Fuck ass nigga tryna battle that
Shaquille O’Neal rim rattle that
Niggas, they snitch, they tattle that
Send that shit back, damn
You must be dope, bitch I’m crack, yuh
Damn, a couple of grams, to be exact, yuh
Shit I’m young, rich and black, yeah, yeah
So you know they hatin’ that
I’m finna spaz on they ass and you know it
You run up on me then I’m shootin’, it’s over
I got a way with words, they call me a poet, damn
Run up on me then I’m soaking
That .40 on me and you know that it’s blowin, you know that I’m totin’
Your bitches are hoeing, you know that shit goin, uh
I met that bitch on the lowin’
I picked up in a hot rod, we smokin’, huh
Hotbox in the new whip with a new bitch
I don’t even know her name, yah
Run up on me, that’s okay
Got a AK on me, it’s at your brain, yah
I put my dick in your main, yah
I just may go snatchin’ chains, yah
Bring it back
I sell that shit to the gang
I sell that shit to the gang
Run up imma snatch yo chain
I sell that shit to the gang
Can’t you niggas see the difference
Everyday I On a different shit
I’m just tryna keep my distance, yeah
I’m just tryna keep my Distance, yeah
FUCK NIGGAS CANT GET WIT IT
TRANSFORM LIKE IM Witwicky
In a new car boy I’m quick wit it
With a white bitch and she still sniffing
From the shit I brought her last night
Jet lag from the last flight
Scuffed up the pair of black mikes
That I bought back in L.A
Switch it up kinda like a sex change
.40 on my hip like a gun range
Pull up on a nigga like OK
Man down bitch no mayday
Westwood I think I can rap forever
I think I can rap forever
No matter where I’m at
No matter the continent
I can probably rap wherever
I can spit whatever
I’ll probably take yo bitch whatever
They selling plays for the kid
They told me to pick whenever
Imma go in one more time
I drop that bitch like a dime
She fall in love with the words
Then she fall in love with the lines
It is a difference
It is a difference
(Between words in lines)
(Uneral funeral)
I’m just tryna catch a vibe
About Juice WRLD Lyrics
Artist: Juice WRLD
Related Songs: Willing To Die 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