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cobra freestyle* (mic check freestyle) - juice wrld lyrics

[verse 1]
alright, i may talk sh*t but all the sh*t i talk real
you will get popped like a n*gga pop feels
i can f*ck a b*tch anytime i want don’t cop feels
all these n*ggas ain’t sh*t but some b*tches
ho ass n*ggas and some snitches, i don’t see the difference
i just got gucci on my britches
pull up on the scene, i’ma k!ll ’em
fry that n*gga like a sk!llet, make his b*tch get on her knees for forgiveness
if a n*gga play wit’ me we gon’ catch him, make him strip naked then blast him
taking off like i’m on nasa chains ’round my neck but b*tch i’m a slave master
these n*ggas ain’t rich they rich backwards
lost my father i guess i’m a rich b*st*rd
and that’s word to your hood n*gga
you ain’t ’bout that action send them verbs to your hood n*gga
but i ain’t talking about them words, i still got wordplay
pull up on the scene single choppa like beyoncé
3k on a fit b*tch, ain’t no andre
finna take a b*tch straight shifts straight to bombay
if i go broke then it’s back to the coke
whippin’ soap in the kitchen wit’ my bro
r.i.p. to the ones that died, i really miss ’em
r.i.p. to my great grams, wish i could kiss her
pull up on the scene wit’ the choppa faster than twister
hang a motherf*cker like the triple k n*gga
i don’t f*ck with these n*ggas, f*ck all these n*ggas
rushin’ i for the money, chris tuck’ in me n*gga
they don’t think i’m finna charge sh*t
b*tch i’m like boss that’s what i’ma—
[verse 2]
ayy, listen, ayy, ayy, listen, ayy
on these beats i’ma murder, freestyle no murmurin’
what’s yo’ name n*gga i ain’t never heard of ya?
you think that i’m scared of ya?
desert eagle on me it’s gonna shoot for the green
i guess that’s the larry bird in us
hey, i don’t make a fuss and sh*t
i’m probably on a mission with your girl f*cking sh*t
i ain’t with that cuffing sh*t, the loving sh*t, the type to get my d*ck sucked in public quick
i’m a freestyle master, you know that it’s true
ayy word to my religion cause i know that it’s true
ayy word to gucci and louis you know that’s my shoes
if i pull up i’m shooting i aim that b*tch out the roof
you don’t want no smoke, you don’t want no cancer
i’ma sh*t on these n*ggas, please mind my manners, uh
back in school rolling weed in my planner, uh
i guess i ain’t really have no plans or somethin’
but a n*gga richer than most
and you get it don’t forget it, i’ma pull up and blow
i be wit’ it all my n*ggas defy n*ggas like physics, shut the f*ck up and listen
i been popping these pills, filling up my prescriptions
i feel great i’m hungry but then again i still ate
that glock it got 23 + 7, i hit your ass with that mac i pass my bro the 11
he hit your ass in your back, you don’t know how to act
these n*ggas in atlanta still pouring up fake act
what the f*ck is wrong with them, boy your ass off track
thinking you was talking sh*t but when i talk sh*t back
you don*don’t have sh*t to say, i ain’t really finna talk at all
i’ma just finna have my homie draw you up and chalk you off
i don’t got no time for this sh*t, i don’t talk at all
i’m a dog but i bite yeah, i ain’t barking dawg
ayy, i put a silence on the gun and let it whisper to ya
i promise i ain’t scared of no competition
and since y’all wanna talk about having drive, i feel mayweather cause i’m driving like bugatti engine
i’m in the back with my n*ggas, don’t got no henchmen
i feel like a god but i will not grant forgiveness
and when i’m through i ain’t finna leave a witness
these n*ggas p*ssy so i’m finna k!ll a kitten
yo’ b*tch got a p*ssy i’m finna k!ll the kitten
all these n*ggas ain’t sh*t but some f*cking b*tches
i ain’t really got time for these f*cking b*tches
i just f*ck they b*tches and then it’s f*ck them b*tches, ayy
that’s how it goes, yo’ b*tch like drake cause she run with her woes
i’ma finna catch her and a couple of hoes
f*ck at the hotel then tell her she gotta go
the glocky get to kissing n*ggas no mistletoe
one shot a piece i ain’t plannin’ on missing ho
matter a fact try me, i do you like dej loaf
and leave yo ass in heaven wit’ a motherf*ckin’ halo, uh, ha
i’m a k!ller for real, uh, but i be with them k!llers for real, uh
banana clip will drill you for real, uh, then i’m gone we gon’ drill you for real
if you want smoke hit my line, we could address it
but i ain’t texting back, h*ll nah you’ll get the message
when we pull up to your block wit’ a smith & wesson
if you at a hotel, we’ll catch you at the westin, f*ck n*gga

- juice wrld lyrics

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