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murda gang (studio session) - juice wrld lyrics

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[intro]
uh, i’m young, wild, and i’m rich
i don’t even want her (m*m*m*murda)
g*money gon’ come take yo’ b*tch

[chorus]
young, wild, and i’m rich
i don’t want yo’ hoe, g*money gon’ come take yo’ b*tch
put that on my bros, run up on me, you get hit
choppa with a scope, buckle up you know it’s gon’ be a ride, ayy, yeah, ayy
f*ck that b*tch, yeah, i’ma get inside, ayy, yeah, ayy
mike p is a b*tch, that’s on my life, ayy, yeah, ayy
i’m gon’ put my d*ck inside yo’ wife, ayy, ayy, yeah, uh
n*gga it’s payday, what the f*ck is a trayway?, hooh, ayy
i get—, haha
f*ckin’ ’em up, don’t give a sh*t, don’t give a f*ck
she finna suck, swallow me up, gun on my hip, hollow me up, ooh
sad boy sh*t, still keep a choppa on me, on that bad boy sh*t
colored dreads with a gun in my hand, ooh
i think i need an accountant, uh, i’m finna count it, i count it, uh
i’m finna count it, i count it, uh i’m finna count it, i count it, uh
i think i need an accountant, i’m in the club with a bouncer, uh
.40 on me it’s [?], that b*tch on me shе a cougar, uh
i f*ck that b*tch, not a loser, uh
eeny, meeny, miny, moe choosin’, uh
i just camе from london on that boujie sh*t, ooh, ayy
mac all on my hip, ain’t on that uzi sh*t, yeah, ayy
run up, you get hit, i got a ruler clip, uh
versace on my .40, yup, yeah that medusa, yep, yeah, ayy
i just came from london on some boujie sh*t, uh
mac 11 on my bag, ain’t on no uzi sh*t
back in, .40 on my—
bad lil’ b*tch, she gon’ f*ck on my clique
back in, packs in, i go shoppin’ at gucci you at packsin, uh
why you actin’?, vvs on the way, it’s avalanchin’
get rich in a mansion, i’m a real n*gga, you a mannequin, ayy
skywalk on these f*ck n*ggas like anakin, yeah
i was at the door, they need to let me in, yeah
lord forgive me, for, i know i’m finna sin, yeah
i ain’t takin’ l’s, b*tch i’m finna m, ayy
but i’m still with no limit, ayy, yeah i still got no limits, ayy
run up on me, we k!ll it, ayy, ooh
i just left london, sh*t, it was bussin’
i had a show, ooh, almost jumped in the crowd or somethin’
smoking the loudest loud, uh
f*ck n*ggas, they frontin’
almost got fake lean, that sh*t wasn’t nothin’, yeah, ayy
uh, yeah, ayy
uh, yeah, ayy
uh, yeah, ayy
uh

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