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Juice WRLD
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Ayy, turn the music up for me, Chris (Oh, oh) n***a, G-Money picked me up today, where the f**k you at? (Oh, oh) Ten racks, it's a Goyard bag, b*t*h (Oh, oh) All I need is a bad b*t*h Counting money is a habit, triple nine Hop out the coupe, let the doors close (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt) Every day I'm off a Xan or a narco And I know these b*t*hes scan like a barcode I'm too busy swimming through the money Really feeling like a shark though (Cash, cash, cash) Pop-out the cut with the .40 (Pew, pew, pew) I remember when I used to wear the same clothes Now I got a Goyard bag full of bankrolls I need a passport so these n***as can't tell me where I can't go Pop-out the cut with the .40 (Pew, pew, pew) I remember when I used to wear the same clothes Now I got a Goyard bag full of bankrolls I need a passport so these n***as can't tell me where I can't go Walking in the room, find it on my shoes I could never lose, I don't got sh*t to lose But don't get it confused, I took a loss or two I remember when I lived on Misery Avenue I remember taking drugs, a couple Percs, that'll do Lost so many friends 'cause I had such a bad attitude All them pretty girls, I'm sorry, I can't stay mad at you So still come through, ho, we can make a move, ho I don't need one Xan, I need two, ho Counted up like twenty bands, did that with my eyes closed I ain't ever been to France, but I got a French ho In a two-door, kicking that sh*t like Judo Pop-out the cut with the .40 (Pew, pew, pew) I remember when I used to wear the same clothes Now I got a Goyard bag full of bankrolls I need a passport so these n***as can't tell me where I can't go Pop-out the cut with the .40 (Pew, pew, pew) I remember when I used to wear the same clothes Now I got a Goyard bag full of bankrolls I need a passport so these n***as can't tell me where I can't go I remember when they thought I was a lame-o Now I'm calling all the bad hoes, lame hoes I don't have a main ho, all girls are the same, ho I was in a Bentley truck, now I need a Range Rove' I'ma go where they can't go, I need a chain like Django I was just smoking on mango, they ain't even look like G-Fazos My room look like a gun show, need a Draco with a condo Hit a n***a with a combo, I ain't really tryna fight though I be geeking off the X, ho, finna go f**k on my ex ho I do that sh*t out of spite though, hit the strip club, it's a rainstorm I don't really wanna brag, but, I do it so good I get paid for it The Draco with a Gucci backpack, f**k it, I'ma be a psycho Pop-out the cut with the .40 (Pew, pew, pew) I remember when I used to wear the same clothes Now I got a Goyard bag full of bankrolls I need a passport so these n***as can't tell me where I can't go Pop-out the cut with the .40 (Pew, pew, pew) I remember when I used to wear the same clothes Now I got a Goyard bag full of bankrolls I need a passport so these n***as can't tell me where I can't go Stunt on these f**k-n***as
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