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back on the wok freestyle - juice wrld lyrics

[verse]
ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
f*ck that sh*t
b*tch i’m*
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
okay, huh
off of the molly, i’m bussin’
i don’t talk sh*t, i don’t do no discussion
run up on me, then that choppa is rumbling
ball on that b*tch like the okc thunder
freestyle off the top it ain’t nothin’
sh*t on that b*tch, i think she need a plunger, uh
i eat the beat like i’m hungry
high off the b*tch, i think i got the munchies, uh
percocet pop, got yo’ b*tch in the back and she giving me top in the cadillac, uh
talkin’ that sh*t ’til i pull up with brodie
ridin’ that gun like a cattlе back, uh
talkin’ that sh*t ’til i pull up with brodie
he shoot at yo’ face and i bat yo’ back, uh
hit you in thе chest no asthma attack
i don’t got time for the battle rap, uh
you’ll come back when your done doing your hair?
bet that
hit him in his face, he forget that
you know where the sh*t at, uh
run up in yo’ trap, where the sh*t at? huh
designer on me, no mismatch, uh
break the b*tch off no kitkat, uh
get slapped like a pimp named slipback
pull up on* ooh
i’m back on that wok’
you run up on me you get shot
i k!ll a n*gga like a white cop
you run up on me you get popped
choppa from black ops
i’m gon’ take stand, like a black cop
man, i’m roaming with my mans
prolly in j*pan
had to sleep on the flight, eleven hours off a xan
i used to pour the wok’
by the eighth, i was in a trans
had to stop it for a second, now i’m back hittin’ that dance
back on that wok’, yeah, uh
back on that wok’, yeah, tuh
juiced up like ‘pac, yeah
juiced up like ‘pac, yeah, huh
back on that wok’, yeah, huh
you will get shot, yeah, huh
i’m off the uppers, i don’t give a f*ck, molly i pop, yeah, huh
ayy, huh, servin’ them rocks, poppin’ them rocks
i got yo’ b*tch on my c*ck, huh
diamonds with rocks, n*gga just stop
i see the fake in yo’ watch, huh
you was a cop, you was an opp
f*ckin’ with me, you get popped, huh
i go to gucci, maybe raf simmons
if a n*gga wanna shop, uh
back on that wok’ again, yeah
hand on my glock again, yeah
her mouth on my c*ck again, yeah
i keep on conquering, yeah
i’m in the club with a .40, yeah
came in the club with my shorty, yeah
my gun hot and h*rny, yeah
that’s a different story, yeah
ayy, i ball out, feel like a laker, b*tch
i sip the henny, no chaser, b*tch
my gun is full of lead
ironic, ’cause it’ll just get to erasing sh*t
f*ck with n*ggas on that racist sh*t
run up on me, get to blazin’ sh*t
jackie chan kush in my swisher, godd*mn, i smoke ’til look like an asian kid
aha*ha*ha*ha
back on that wok’
back on that opps
bow*bow*bow*bow*bow*blaow*blaow
i’m rollin’
back on my opp block, huh
pull up to the opp block, huh
i need some top, top
run up on me got a glock, glock, huh
b*tch on my c*ck, c*ck, huh
gon’ suck my c*ck, uh
just ’cause yo’ boyfriend walked in the room, don’t mean you can stop, nah, huh, ayy
sh*t, i’m gonna f*ck her face ’til she get lockjaw, huh
hit her from the back so good, she screaming out, “oh my god”, huh
baby, i’m far from god, huh
really, i’m just being modest, huh
i pray to god every day for forgiveness
i know sometimes i ain’t that honest, huh
i keep on flyin’, i’m flyin’ out tryin’, they callin’ that sh*t autopilot, uh
gun a librarian and a barbarian
b*tch, yeah, it came with the silence, yeah
i’m going hard off the xanies and percies
you lil’ n*ggas just need to try it, huh
feel like rick ross or somethin’, my pockets fat, they don’t need no diet, ayy
feel like 2 chains or somethin’, with this new draco, i’m gon start a riot, ayy
n*ggas talk stupid to me
it ain’t nothin’ for me to leave them dying, ayy
leave they momma cryin’, ayy
families traumatized, ayy
presidential rollie, see it through obama’s eyes, ayy
i can’t believe that n*gga trump is president for what?
i mean the sh*t is kinda f*cked up
but i’m still rich so who give a f*ck
i can’t say that, ’cause i care
and i got n*ggas that’s still in the trenches
i can’t pay for everybody, get the winnings
they gotta get into their suits, gotta get it, uh
i’ma talk my sh*t and back it up
pull up in that all*black, black, acura
i shoot, ain’t too accurate
ironic, accurate, in the acura
talkin’ that sh*t you can’t catch us, uh
you will need more than some backup, uh
all my n*ggas be axing questions
like they throwing hatches, uh, ayy
try us if you want
’cause my n*ggas in the back
and my n*ggas in the front
with a mac, couple gats
and a strap, better run
’cause my n*ggas down to hunt
i’ma treat you just like a pigskin, go and punt
get the f*ck out my face, i’m gon’ pick up yo’ b*tch
get the f*ck in her face
all of my n*ggas be grippin’ them k’s
you ain’t talkin’ no money, the f*ck out my face
i’m going straight to the bank
straight to the bank
remember i would run to the bank
i used to follow the car crackers to the bank
couple of them robbin’ the bank, holdup
ayy, back on that ack’
sippin’ that wok’ ’til i asthma attack
run up on me, then i’m shootin’ my mac
and my n*ggas get money, yeah, that is a fact
feel like bobby brown, i’m spittin’ the crack
ain’t get that b*tch, get the f*ck out my trap
i f*ck that b*tch in the muhf*ckin’ back
i hit that so good, she ain’t know how to act, uh
like can i mess up? i don’t know
i gotta fess up, i mean i’m finna make a confession
i mean the sh*t about progression
i mean my word is my weapon
i’m in the beat so good, yeah, taste so good
i’ma come back for seconds
i’m gonna k!ll a n*gga, it’s my preference
i’m gonna send a n*gga up to heaven
you microsoft like windows 7
i spit sh*t like a d*mn reverend
i’m a young n*gga like an adolescent
i’m in school, i can teach you lesson
i’m in the cut with a smith & wesson
i got the b*tch from the f*cking west sun
i f*ck that b*tch in the f*cking west sun, huh
i’m up on tour, yeah, huh
i’m back from tour, yeah, huh
i’m back from tour, yeah, huh
i’m back from tour, yeah, huh
remember my old twitter handle, juice dior, yeah
that was when i was broke
now they can call me juice dior, yeah
ap my wrist, ayy, hmm
d*ck in yo’ b*tch, ayy, huh
i told that b*tch to act like a dog, just give me a l!ck, ayy, huh
i know these b*tches be b*tches for real
they burnin’ like ticks, ayy
so i had to use a rubber before i bend her over and hit, ayy, huh
back on that b*tch, hmm
back on that cat again, huh
hittin’ that cat again, huh
i’m up to bat again, huh
i’m barry bonds with her friends, huh
i just got it in with twins, huh
they sucked me up in my benz, huh
it was real, it wasn’t pretend, huh
back on that act’ again
i was flippin’ them packs, yeah
i was full of adrenaline
listening to eminem
ridin’ in that old*
ridin’ in that old school ram
now i pull up in new school lamb’
i don’t really give a hoover dam
but, i’m up in amsterdam, smokin’ that gas
countin’ the cake, gettin’ the cash
look at yo’ b*tch, i’m finna smash
i recorded while i hit from the back
i remember i was pouring the green
now a n*gga really pouring up act’
now a n*gga really poppin’ them molly’s
rollin’, rollin’, i was up in the class
i remember rollin’ in gym class
i remember rollin’ doing gym laps
i remember rollin’ up in math class
yeah, told my teacher i had the last laugh
rich as f*ck on yo’ b*tch ass
yeah, teach, you a broke ass
yeah, man you fails, tryna teach the whole class
yeah, came back on they broke ass
run up on me you get poked, yeah
l*o*l, but this sh*t ain’t no joke, yeah
run up on me, you know what i’m on
choppa on me, it’s getting you gone
i’m up in the lambo in transform to a ‘rari
that sh*t megatron
light up just like tron, hmm
put that d*ck in yo’ mom, hmm
w*w*w*dot, you ain’t on sh*t dot com, hmm
run up on me, you done, hmm
these n*ggas my sons, hmm
my brother locked up, won’t let that n*gga out
just like akon
back on that wok’, mhm
hand on my glock, mhm
b*tch on her knees, please, ooh
she give me top, mhm
i’m in the studio, wait, can you turn me up a notch, yeah
i’m juiced up today, they callin’ me young ‘pac, ayy
ap my wrist, it costs 250
even though my gang is 150
run up on me then that choppa hittin’
it came with a clip with a muhf*ckin’ titty
f*ck a .30, b*tch, i need me a .50
and f*ck an auto, rather i’d have a semi
i can finger f*ck the b*tch how i want
it’ll shoot a n*gga maybe, uh

- juice wrld lyrics

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