Juice WRLD
Lyricist: Jarad Higgins / Arijan Vujica / Max Lord / Filip Gezin Composer: Jarad Higgins / Arijan Vujica / Max Lord / Filip Gezin
Damn, I tried to stop, oh
Baby (808 Mafia)
Baby (baby), baby (baby)
Baby (you literally are my everything)
(Baby) (Gezin)
Yeah (baby)
Baby, I've been on the run (yeah, yeah)
But I would never run from your love (yeah, yeah)
If you feel on my dick, there's a gun (yeah)
Not right there, just a little above (above)
I value my relationship, it's forever (uh)
But I've been cheatin' on the drugs (yeah)
Broke up with codeine, need a new plug (yeah)
Hit up Hot Rod, pints, I need two of 'em (yeah)
Huh, yeah, lean, huh
Put Biscotti in my lungs
I'm smokin' green, huh
Chopper on me, I don't talk, I just up the beam
Let my gun bust a nut then leave (yeah)
I ain't leave a clue on the scene
Close range so I got blood on my jeans
Saints Row cup, ain't no red in my lean
Bank rolled up, I been swimmin' in green, ayy
Still a blue face king
Benjamin Franklin come dirty and clean
I know my haters hate to see me succeed
If they get the chance, they'll end up murderin' me
This shit got me laughin', ha-ha
Kel-Tec get to rappin', gra gra
Fuck nigga, I'm your father
Don't matter if you older
They say age is just a number
If that's the case I'm way over
Than who? (These niggas)
And these bitches that think that they get it
For a backstage pass she'll suck a dick, bitch
I got a bitch, better get you a ticket
Walk through the night with my gun like a creep
But my shirt Maison Martin, my shoes double C
I don't know what it's gonna take you to believe
I ain't goin' nowhere, I ain't gon' leave you (ayy, ayy, ayy)
I ain't goin' nowhere, I ain't gon' leave you
You stuck with me, apologies for all my fuckery
Baby, I've been on the run
But I would never run from your love
If you feel on my dick, there's a gun
Not right there, just a little above
I value my relationship, it's forever
But I've been cheatin' on the drugs (yeah)
Broke up with codeine, need a new plug (yeah)
Hit up Hot Rod, pints, I need two of 'em (yeah)
Huh, yeah, lean, huh
Put Biscotti in my lungs
I'm smokin' green, huh
Chopper on me, I don't talk, I just up the beam
Let my gun bust a nut then leave (yeah)
I ain't leave a clue on the scene
Close range so I got blood on my jeans