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Juice Wrld - Ain't No Waiting

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Tekst piosenki:

Hell yeah
Had to get this shit now, 'cause it ain't no waiting
Had to get this shit now

Had to get this shit now, 'cause it ain't no waiting
Had to fuck the bank twice, ain't no masturbating
I've been balling super hard, I feel like Chamberlain
Fuck that bitch and then I get let her go, you know she waiting
Fuck that bitch and then I give her back, her boyfriend hating
Slow my life down with them Xannies, bitch, I'm in the matrix
Rolling up a blunt, it's OG gas, and I'ma face it
Uh, yeah, ayy, yeah
I go through these phases, it's amazing
This bitch drive me crazy
Like Mercedes
Crash the Mercedеs
Smash your lady
On the daily
Fuck nigga, don't play me
Fuck nigga, I play for keeps
On the scеne, I spray then leave
These niggas won't let me be
These niggas won't let me breathe
Run up on me, I make 'em bleed
Choppa on me, it make 'em leak
New gun, I'ma cock it back
Put that to your stock, and cap
Click-clack, fuck nigga, get back
Bobby Brown, I'ma spit that crack
Get the fuck out of my trap
You ain't welcome in my trap
Real niggas up in my trap
Trill niggas up in my trap
We don't know how to act
Lately, I've been pouring up Act'
Bad bitch get hit from the back
After that, may give her a stack
I ain't pay for a pussy, no cap
I ain't pay for a pussy, no cap
Bitch still wanna come, get that
Wanna know where my new crib at
Fuck nigga, you better fall back
'Cause the gun to your head, fall back
Got a gun in my hand, fall back
Got a gun on my hip, fall back
Got a choppa in the trunk, fall back
'Cause we dip, we jump, fall back
Put a bullet hole in yo' ball cap
And you know we don't fuck wit all that
And your dog topped, like durag
On the top, like a new durag
I'ma fuck your bitch, do that
I'ma leave her in the past
I'ma count up all my cash
I'ma get right in my bag
I know these niggas mad
'Cause all I do is brag
I don't look at the tags
That .40 on me, get tagged
That .40 on me, get dragged
These niggas not straight, they fags
You know I get money, all rack
Rack up, rack up, that rack
Run up on me, you get hit, clapped
Run that shit like a lap
So perky my relapse
I run it like a lap
The police on my ass, uh
I get ghost up in that Ghost, huh
Yeah, I do the most
Brag up on 'em, and I boast, yeah
Pop a bottle, pop a model, same thing in my eyes
Run up on me, .40 on me, leave you traumatized
My gun got a silence, you know you ain't die, bitch
Run up you gon' die bitch, got a .45 bitch
With a .9 bitch, you know you ain't my bitch
You ain't my bitch, you know you ain't my bitch
You's a sidekick, you know you ain't my bitch
You's a sidekick, you know you ain't my bitch
You's a sidek-, sidek-, you a sidekick, side
I still may go ride it like a bike
Run up on me, then you gonna die
Put that on my life, my dick in your wife
Yeah, hell yeah
Fucking right, hell yeah
Fucking right, hell yeah, yeah
Bitch I'm booted, bitch I'm zooted, and you know
Probably run up on 'em, then I let it go
I was running through the six with the woes
.40 hit 'em with it, woah
Money machine gang
Money machine gang, Xanny and lean gang
Money machine gang, money machine gang
Money machine gang, fuck your team gang
Money machine gang, fuck your team gang
Money machine gang, fuck your team gang
She do the whole gang, that's a team thang
Money machine gang, money machine gang
Money machine gang, money machine gang
I feel like a boss, bitch, you're fired, you laid off
A killer at heart, bitch, I feel like I'm Adolf
In the cut, my AK on me, I'm gonna let it off, uh
Don't believe try me, yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it off, huh, ayy
Catch a body gang, that's what we about, yeah, ayy
Off the molly gang, at your bitch house, uh, ayy
Got the whole gang at your bitch house, uh, ayy
Did our whole thing at your bitch house, yeah
I'm back out, got locked up for selling at the crack house
Skate up on a nigga at the blackout
Mask out, fuck 'em up
Mag out, fuck 'em up
He on my phone, he ordered to fuck me up, yeah, yeah, huh
So we had to fuck him up, ayy, yeah
Ayy, G-Money in the cut, countin' money up
Ayy, I'ma take a Perc to ease the pain
I'ma buy a Perc today
60 through Cash App, send that shit this way
Plug pull up, Ruger's tucked, shoot 'em up
Shoo-shoot 'em up, shoo-shoot 'em up
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I get high, bitch I don't care
Touch the sky bitch, you not my bitch
Woah ho-oh
My gun got a silence (Mhm), you know you ain't die bitch (Yeah)
I'm fly- c'mon
Woah ho-oh
What's brakkin', uh, huh, huh
I know niggas lacking, uh, huh, huh
I ain't never ever lacking, uh, huh, huh
.40 on me, yeah, I smack it, uh, huh, huh
Told you I ain't with the lacking, uh, huh, huh
Yeah, I be pistol packing, yeah, huh, huh
If I don't got it then my brother got one, huh
Smoking big blunts, smoking big blunts
Ayy, wait
Better get your money up
Ayy, yeah
I be on a money hunt
Ayy, yeah
On your spot, I shoot it up
Ayy, ain't no Timberland, I boot it up, yeah, ayy
One second, it's leave me alone
Then, I don't want to be alone
Yeah, I want you to leave me 'lone
But I don't wanna be alone
I don't wanna be there alone
I don't wanna be alone
I don't wanna be here alone
I don't wanna be alone
I don't wanna be if she can't be with me, I won't be
If she can't see with me, I won't see, yeah
She's what I need, yeah
Like pills and I ring, yeah
Mix that with that lean, that promethazine
Make my sprite bleed, make my sprite bleed
Make your gang bleed, huh, ayy, huh
I fell in love with the paper, then the guap came
Fuck the bank 'til the guap came
I fell in love with that bitch, she love cocaine
Too bad we don't love the same things
I fell in love with the money, then the guap came, yeah
Fuck the bank 'til the guap came
I fell in love with her pussy, she love cocaine
Too bad we don't like the same things
Uh, yeah, yeah
Uh, yeah, huh, yeah
Keep in tucked, yeah, huh, huh
You can't keep up with us (Yeah, ayy)
I remember they was dissing us
The same hoes down to fuck, yeah
I don't like parties, but I still go
Balenciaga runners look like steel toes

Paper on me
Bitch I'm out of your reach
Out of your re–
Money on me (Money)
.40 on me, yeah
Hundreds on me, yeah
(Woah ho-oh)
(Yeah)
(Mhm)
(Yeah, ayy)
(Woah ho-ho)

 

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Autor tekstu:

Juice WRLD

Edytuj metrykę
Rok wydania:

2020

Wykonanie oryginalne:

Juice WRLD

Covery:

Juice WRLD

Płyty:

Unreleased

Ciekawostki:

To siedmiominutowy freestyle który wyciekł 5 października 2020roku. Prawdopodobnie nigdy nie zostanie oficjalnie wydany lecz fani mogą dostać oficjalne wydanie tak samo jak w przypadku freestylu z Trippe Redd 1400 / 999. Juice WRLD szczegółowo opisuje jego styl życia i sławę. Odnosi się do drogich samochodów, broni i narkotyków oraz zwraca uwagę na pozytywne aspekty jego stylu życia.

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