Juice WRLD
Baller of the Year (Freestyle)
[Verse 1]
Wockhardt sip, uh
I take sip, uh
Suck my dick, uh
.50 clip, .30 clip, make it spit, uh, huh
I hit that lil' bitch just like a lick, uh, huh
Told her to get on her knees and come lick, uh, uh
Roll on a bitch like a motherfuckin' pig, uh, huh
I'm in the cut; gun, it's a stick up
Brand new choppa, uh
You don't want problems, uh
Roll 'em goblins, uh
Know how we mobbin', uh
Used to rock them Robins, uh
Now I rock a Givenchy, uh
Put em' straight in the coffin', uh
Sippin' Codeine no coughing, uh
Bitch, I do it too often, uh
I be dead, bitch I'm bossin', uh
Like Osama Bin Laden, uh
I feel like I'm a terrorist, n***as [?], uh, uh, uh
Pull up on him and make that n***a embarrassed enough, uh, uh, uh, uh, yeah
Sippin' that sip, fucking yo' bitch, loading my clip up
Ball like Kobe, maybe Michael, have a pick-up
He on the ground, shoot him down, he need to get up
Shoot him in his face, forehead brown, he can't get up, uh, ayy
Bitch I feel like James Bond, 007, huh
Triple 9, but if I flip that shit, go call your reverend, ayy
Ballin' out, I'm switching in my adolescence
R.I.P my fallen ones, you lookin' down from heaven, uh, uh
N***as' Microsoft, huh, Windows 7, huh, uh
I ain't flirting, but my MAC got an 11, huh
Ha, ha, yeah, I just ate on that bitch
Hahaha, yeah, huh
You can't fuck with me, you is a fuck n***a, huh, uh
Every day I swear that I don't fuck with em'
N***as funny than a bitch, Chris Tuck n***as, uh, uh
Chopper on my hip, you fake fuck-n***as, uh, uh
Pourin' that lean up, n***a you know what?
N***a, I show up, uh, I done blowed up
Me and wock, got the 'Tech, finna pour up
If you talk, it's on go, bitch, I'm bolder, uh, ayy
Juice WRLD, I'm in two worlds
Ayy, fucked one bitch, I'ma go fuck two girls
Go get your girl, fuck it, now that's my girl
I just took your bitch, she landed in Juice WRLD, ayy
Bitch I'm fly like AF1, huh, huh, huh, huh
VLONE, that my AF1's, huh, huh, huh
Shoutout Ski 'cause that's my Slump, huh, huh, yeah, huh
Choppa on me, kill a chump, uh, uh
I meditate on that bitch, boy I feel like a motherfuckin' monk, uh, uh
I listen to Fallout Boy, I guess I'm just a motherfuckin' punk, ugh
I listen to rock, I listen to jazz, I listen to pop, uh
I pop your bitch, she pop that pussy just like a trunk, huh (Boy)
I'm finna eat on this bitch, mark my word
[Verse 2]
Perc' 30, another Perc' 30
I pray these Percs, workin'
I need the Perc' surgeon
I need me a Perc' preacher, so I can have me a Perc' sermon
N***as be talkin' shit but I don't hear 'em, they just vermin
Fucking yo' bitch, I hit it
Off of the Xan, forget it
Baby, just give me a minute
I know that bitch in her feelings
Lately my ex been trippin'
She found out my new bitch is better than her and plus she with it, ha
She with it, she with it, uh
She give me the brain, like she wit' it
I put a hole in yo' fitted, uh
Don't talk shit about the city, uh
N***a, you not from the city, uh
So I ain't showing no pity, uh
I got a pretty bitch, she look like she Ricky, shoot em' in the back, no Ricky, uh, uh
Transform in that—Camaro, Witwicky, uh, huh
Pull up like Jack Sparrow, robbing em' for their shit like, uh, huh
I need another bitch, um
I hit another lick, um
I'm on that other shit, um
Bitch I'm a alien, off of the mothership
I fuck— I fuck more bitches, then get some more money and that is because of it, uh
N***as sicker than them n***as fucking they cousin, shit, huh
All I know is get this cash, run up, its bussin' bitch, uh
I'm at your head, concussion, yeah
There really no discussion, yeah, uh
I call my gun pro-active, cause it'll get to bussin', yeah, uh
Get to poppin', yeah
Poppin' at yo' noggin, yeah
Remember I was robbin', tryna buy a pair of Robins, yeah
Used to be True Religion, true to my religion, yeah, yeah, yeah
Young n***a, I was different, still whippin' in the kitchen, yeah, yeah, yeah
Brother, washin' some dishes, mama come down trippin', yeah, yeah, yeah
Mama, we ain't flipping, we over here cooking grits, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
That was the excuse, it wasn't grits, it was crack
Used to sell it after school, uh, yeah
Don't believe me? Ask your aunt, she was a fool, uh
Used to get me top for—, uh, a rock or two, ha, yeah, yeah
That's true story, uh
I get some head from a hot 'cause she didn't wanna pay for the glory, uh
That sound kinda sick, I admit, I still did that shit, huh
Young and rich, don't give a shit, still young and ignorant, yeah, um, um
My brother was a trap king, king
My girl is a trap queen, queen
Turn this LA to the trap-ing, -ing
Beverly Hills is my trap-ing
I remember boolin' over east, east
With that .30 in that .40, I'm a beast, beast
I remember when them n***as was shootin' at me, me
I had to shoot back, like Kobe with that 3, -e (Boy)
Got that nini in that bitch, really on pre-heat
No Chicago, but I'm ballin' like the Meanstreets
You Stevie Wonder to my shit, you could never see me
I'm reality, you a dream, you can never be me
Told her beat it, Michael Jackson, seen, like Toni Braxton
In the kitchen cookin', I'm just rappin' bout' that action
I know n***as really clappin' shit, and pistol packing
You need an Oscar from the way that y'all n***as be acting
On God, ha
[Verse 3]
(Boy)
(I just told Richie we rich)
I just told Richie to be rich, huh
I told a ho, "Suck a dick," uh
Pull up on me, you get hit, um
I got my hand on the stick
Don't give a fuck about shit, uh
Everyday I'm getting in, huh
Everyday I'm getting rich, uh
I might pull up on a Benz
Sippin' that Codeine, these n***as know me, these n***as ain't on shit, huh
Pull up on him, with a new gun, fuck, all on red, uh
Pull up on him, with a new gun, fuck his face with it, uh
I get cash, I get cash, baby I'm super rich, um
Freestyle all day
Free smoke, free smoke, uh
Your life is a gun range
Pull up on em' like Call Of Duty, got the Uzi, no gun game
I pull up like Call Of Duty, but it ain't no lag on me
I ball like 2k shawty, bounce on my balls, the two pay shorty
Kick, Push, Lupe, shorty, six shoes on me like Flu Game, shorty
This n***as too lame, shorty
On God, hahaha