days going by - juice wrld lyrics
[intro]
smokin’ cookie crisp, huh, stupid b*tch
[verse 1]
let my girlfriend hold the strap n*gga, no dike
doin drive*bys at night, n*gga no lights
hatin on me, f*ck n*gga got no life
grew up with n*ggas thats locked up for life
slowed down on the percs something don’t feel right
hi*tech red that sh*t slime real right
i free*style that sh*t they will write
he on the corner, stop at the redlight
talkin drunk, n*gga no budlight
he on the gram flexin with fake dice
i’mma keep going no time for a hook
they stealin the drip, no time for a crook
your b*tch get picked up, then i get l!cked up, we in a ?
movin to cali, la to vista
she want a mister, i want her sister, she real crazy
someone come roll backwoods i’ll pay
someone talk down on my name i’ll slay
imma test out my new gun like yeah
spend two bands get my b*tch red hair
pull on up a f*ck n*gga yeah right there
he location shared
on the way with sticks right now, we ain’t never cared
[chorus]
uhh, uhhh, she look at me like im a young god
allah, thank god, gave me the talent now a n*gga go hard
we in yo yard, you ain’t here then we in your bro yard
make it clear, pulling in the front lawn
we know you here, ay ayy ayy
turn your coat red, paul revere
[verse 2]
run up the money and run out of fears
codeine cups we having cheers
whats her name all on my phone, i haven’t talked to this b*tch in some years
yeah they all write back when the money comin in
they want givenchi the way i got it, n*gga how much are you willin to spend, yea
[verse 3]
talk my sh*t and back it
rockstar from the trap, yeah
run from the cops in my raf, yeah
they gon feel my wrath, yeah
im pouring up into a sprite or crush, maybe a hi*c , maybe a faygo
call it ironic, cause all my demons be ready to get some of these f*ck n*ggas halos
woah, imma let it breathe, breathe let it die slow
i’m your greatest enemy, eazy e, f*ck the police
they won’t let none of my n*ggas home
woah, imma let it breathe, breathe let it die slow
i’m your greatest enemy, eazy e, f*ck the police
[chorus]
uhh, uhhh, she look at me like im a young god
allah, thank god, gave me the talent now a n*gga go hard
we in yo yard, you ain’t here then we in your bro yard
make it clear, pulling in the front lawn
we know you here, ay ayy ayy
turn your coat red, ayy ayy ayy, paul revere
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