Tag: Juice WRLD

Cheese and Dope Freestyle – Juice WRLD Lyrics, Letra:

Everybody doin’ that Cheese and Dope Challenge on Instagram, that’s funny
You not trolling me with that shit? (What?)
Cheese and dope shit, that Project Pat (Yeah)

Bitch, I’m better, bitch, I’m better, bitch, I’m better, bitch, I’m better
I do better, I do better, I do better, I do better
You wanna fight? You wanna fight? You wanna fight? You wanna fight?
Juice Mayweather, Juice Mayweather, Juice Mayweather, Juice Mayweather (Ha-ha-ha)
Look at the way I’ma spit this shit, look at the way I used to hit them licks
I was back in the Chi’, I was runnin’ through the 6, like Drake, but I don’t got no woes for shit
Pull up on the scene with the chopper, like: Damn
Nigga shoot him in his face, but it hit his bitch
All I know is get the cash and stack it, yeah, after I make you flip
Smokin’ on dope, smokin’ on dope, sellin’ that dope, I’m in the trap
Used to have brown in a bag, used to serve it out my lab
Fifty more dollars, had to pay to get high in my house
But if you was tweakin’, fuck it, load that clip when I kick you out
I got cheese, hoes, and a bunch of fuckin’ dope
I got P’s, coke, and some killers at the door
Niggas fake, lip syncin’, Milli Vanilli on these hoes
I’m just poppin’ like a wheelie, like Meek Milly on a go, ayy
Off of the molly, I’m a whole different person
Snakes in the grass, but I see the serpent
Run up on me, I get to murkin’
Gun is a bird, It get to chirpin’
Ooh, ayy, ayy, she tell me I’m pretty, I say: I’m prettier in person, ooh, ayy
I thank God every day, he bless me, this discernment
I see demons, I see demons, I see angels, uh
My eyes are like cameras, and I see it from different angles, uh, ayy
Run up on me, you get shot, huh, gun on my hip, uh-uh, ayy
Boy, this bitch I pocket, huh, yeah, I got a pocket rocket, huh, ayy
Project Pat, uh, I’m a project kid, uh
Hit you in yo’ stomach, bullets, you digestin’ it
I never had no Section 8, no, I lived in that Section A
UP universe park, that’s where I was at, that’s where we fuckin’ stayed, ayy
We was in Cal’ Park, ayy, uppin’ the hunnids, ayy, ayy
Niggas in Rosen, ay, ay, gettin’ that money, ayy, ayy
Over ease up in the streets, actin’ grimey, ayy, ayy
I ain’t Thug, but some my niggas’ll get real slimey, ayy, ayy
Huh, . 40 with that 30, I deserve it
I’m ballin’ for that green, I’m shootin’ on my Larry Bird shit
Niggas know what’s up, I’m in the kitchen, like I’m Curry
Whippin’, whippin’, flippin’ chickens, Harold’s to the churches
Niggas know what’s up with me, in the kitchen with the cutlery
Ballin’, Jimmy Butler, rushin’, I was Chrissy Tucker, please
Get the fuck back, ‘fore we fuck up ‘yo set
Droppin’ sets, loading TEC’s
Hit your face and yo’ neck
Bitch, I’m ballin’, don’t need rebounds, I’m dunkin’ on the bitch
Up in school, I couldn’t do no work, I was flunking in that bitch
High as fuck, off the Xans, sleep in class, fuck the work
Matter fact, after class, I was probably selling work
I had Addy’s for the 30, I had Vyvanse for the 10
I had all types of Xans, I used to pass that to my friends
Who get high up beside lunch, after that, probably skip school
I was ridin’ ‘round the city with my motherfuckin’ tool, uh
Used to leave the burbs, go back to the city
Gun with a pretty pea coat, Pretty Ricky
You get shot in yo’ back, if you think this shit sweet
Mask on me, it ain’t Halloween, still Trick or Treat
All these hoes wanna fuck on me, they can’t get dick for free
Matter fact, can’t get dick at all, ‘cause these bitches ain’t for me
They be triflin’, they be triflin’, tryna rob, tryna scheme
If a bitch tryna set my brothers up, might leave her on the scene, uh
See, my gun is bisexual, it also knows a lot of big words, it’s perplexual
See, bitch, I be flexin’, and my life is on a pedestal
I’m just like KISS or sum’, I got that heavy metal, and I’m rockin’

Chronic – Juice WRLD Letra, Lyrics:

R-R-Reaper on the beat

I’m smokin’ on Chronic, out my body
Thumbin’ through a check, wildin’
Get in the way, you get wrecked
Put away money and burn all the rest
Up for days, I ain’t get no rest
It’s just me and this Kel-Tec
Back in the day, Trueys and J’s
Criminal ways, droppin’ them sets

Mm, mm, mm
They don’t got no choice but to respect it
If they don’t then I’m gon’ teach they ass a lesson
We can fight or I can go get the Smith & Wesson, uh
(Uh, uh, uh, uh)
Terry Crews, me and my crew, we woke up flexin’
Onе hundred in cash, I don’t do no credit or debit
On yo’ ass, bro, aimin’ stеady-eady, uh
(Steady-eady, uh, uh, uh, uh)
Bitch, I’m a dog, I don’t got no heart, feel like Belly, uh
I take a piss on my enemies, I’m young R. Kelly, uh
I take a shit on my enemies, they broke and smelly, uh
(Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh)

I’m smokin’ on Chronic, out my body
Thumbin’ through a check, wildin’
Get in the way, you get wrecked
Put away money and burn all the rest
Up for days, I ain’t get no rest
It’s just me and this Kel-Tec
Back in the day, Trueys and J’s
Criminal ways, droppin’ them sets
I’m smokin’ on Chronic, out my body
Thumbin’ through a check, wildin’
Get in the way, you get wrecked
Put away money and burn all the rest
Up for days, I ain’t get no rest
It’s just me and this Kel-Tec
Back in the day, Trueys and J’s
Criminal ways, droppin’ them sets