Coachella Freestyles lyrics


Juice WRLD

[Part 1]

[Verse 1: Juice WRLD]
Gon' blick him up
If she wanna take a flick with us, we gon' flick it up
If she wanna take some di*k from us, we gon' di*k her up
Probably call you in like 20 minutes to come pick her up
She was sober when we hit it, she wanted to liquor up
I don't let these b*tches get high before they take this di*k
Next you know they be on the news sayin' we tried to rape that b*tch
I don't got time for a n*gga, I just got time for a n*gga
I don't got time for a n*gga, uh, I don't got a dime for a n*gga
I just got bullets for a n*gga, I just rhymes for a n*gga
If you willing to pay for these features I may make time for that n*gga
Man I spaz on every track n*gga, I run this sh*t like track n*gga
I run this sh*t like white police tryna catch up to a black n*gga
All I do is pour Act' n*gga, Wockhardt with the Klonopins
With the Hi-Tech, it ain't no Act' left
You trippin' we say he sniff Act' n*gga
Unless he one of them big homies
Run up on me you get smoked, just like zig on me
L-O-L its a joke, all you n*ggas broke, you need a fix homie
Run up on me you get hit, chopper too big like a hit, stick on me
Feel like Madden with the hitstick
Lil' n*gga you can get hit homie, I'm lit like Bic homie
She suck my di*k homie, then she asked for a pic homie
I ain't finna take no pic wit' a ho, I know these b*tches be clout chasin'
I think about like a million things at once, n*gga I be mind racin'
These n*ggas ain't sh*t but some mouses, they be rat racin'
I was in my trap whippin' up sh*t with the baking soda
b*tch, my di*k up in her throat just like a Jeera Cola
I gave her nine months to get rid of that now she got a baby stroller
[Part 2]

[Verse 2: Juice WRLD]
Ooh, ooh, woah, woah
I see how you wanna act, remember when I back actually flipping packs
n*ggas talkin', all these n*ggas ain't 'bout that action
I'm from Chicago, we be shootin', we feel like Paxson
You got a problem then f*ck it we gon' be pistol packin'
Leave 'em bloody as f*ck, he gon' need more than a napkin
I don't got time for these n*ggas, all of these b*tches reactin'
If I wanted reactions I'd go YouTube and watch reactions
Young n*gga, I'm richer than most n*gga
Champagne, get it poppin', I don't wanna toast n*gga
Yeah I brag sometimes, I admit that I boast with it
sh*t I'm humble as f*ck, I don't give a f*ck about most n*ggas
They be trying me, don't really got time for these n*ggas
All these wannabes and wanna be me n*ggas
They got to the count of three to get the f*ck away from me n*gga
Before I go on killing spree, kill everybody within' the function cause n*ggas buggin' me
I don't got time for none of these hoes, all these hoes thinkin' that they lovin' me
These b*tches ain't sh*t but some dusty ass, raggedy ass, ugly hoes
Probably from block or somethin'
Probably wanna suck on c*ck or somethin'
Probably wanna get to the top or somethin'
Thinkin' they can suck they way to the top or somethin'
I don't really got time for these hoes, they need to stop it
They gettin' outta pocket, you run up cool, I'ma pull my gun out my pocket
Crack it back once then pop it
I don't got time for a n*gga, I got options
n*gga I'm the bestest, these n*ggas ain't sh*t
That sh*t dead like a bag asbestos
Freestyle off the top, change the topic on these hoes and I get the guap
These hoes ain't sh*t but hoes, I'ma treat 'em like that, I'ma leave 'em there
If I catch an opp, I'ma wack an opp
If I catch a cop, I'ma run away
If I don't kill you cool, I'ma probably kill yo' ass on another day
I heard you talkin' sh*t, I found out where your mother stayin'
I'ma be back in Chicago that trip damn near like a month away
I'm high as hell, probably lost all my brain cells, may be a blunt away
I'm so high I may come down in a couple days
Look, eyes make you smile like a couple face
You will get dropped like a mixtape
My first mixtape was sad, my next tape finna be with mixed hate
I'm the type to blow yo candles out then kill yo' ass on yo birthday
To go to yo' birthstone, take a p*ss on yo' birth place
Never gave a f*ck about a n*gga or a b*tch that's in the f*cking first place
You gon' miss me when I'm gone, damn right, you heard Drake?
Pull up to yo' doorway, with a .4-0, they like foreplay that go both ways
So it'll kill you and yo' b*tch, 'fore the end of the day, b*tch you heard me?
[Part 3]

[Verse 3: Juice WRLD, Cordae]
I never liked marshmallows, besides my n*gga Marshmello
Ball like Carmelo, such a bizarre fellow

Ooh, new Lamborghini truck, make it in all yellow
f*ck that I got the Double R, black and red fellow
I pull up on the scene and jack him like Sparrow
You talkin' stupid, then I'm gon' shoot you, two barrels
n*ggas thinkin' that they in it, walking on the straight dinero
G-Money told me just rob 'em take the money then let go
He say we gon' get rich, we walked up to Interscope
We wasn't no b*tch, and we told 'em what we wanted
So they gave us that times two plus a couple mo'
Man we richer than a b*tch that's white and 24
With some coke in the stash box
And a n*gga at her door, screaming you got me—
Ooh I was finna go somewhere with that

He said, he said, hit a n*gga straight in his face, red arrow
Jumped off the plane to Coachella, daredevil
Bad little b*tch, oh, bae a rebel
I'ma kill this sh*t forever, n*gga forever
Goddamn never clever, stackin' cheddar
Everything we do, yeah, we do it better so—
I say, yeah, shoutout to Clever, yeah
Shoutout to Seezyn and all my artists, yeah
You know we crazy, we marchin' in like the Spartans, yeah
We not from earth, but we came through like a Martian, yeah
I'm rolling up Posto and then I spark it, yeah

Hold on stay with the 300 no Spartan, yeah
Got a bad lil' b*tch, might spark it, yeah
And we getting the cheddar like Harvard, yeah
Dropped out but still went to Harvard, yeah
Graduated, bad little b*tch yeah, had to hate it
f*ckin' model hoes, used to masturbate it
That I used to motherf*ckin' get on Instagram
Bad little b*tch and you all got instant tans
And Coachella propellers, came in helicopter
Bad little f*ckin' b*tch but I can smell the oppa, hold on
Keep reading through it like a teleprompter
But I think Wayne said it first
No biting, reciting, I'm am just [?] for all you n*ggas that lighting
And liking my new sh*t, goddamn, coke type fiend

I say yo' girl like me, f*cked her with a white teen
They gnawing on my ear, she misses, Mike Tyson
I'm fly in the sky like Aang, no bison
I'm lookin' at the future like damn, so bright
G-Money we going crazy, that's for life
n*gga run up on me then we shootin' no three strikes
What we got, shooters on our team? Them n*ggas is pitcher
I'm looking at the opps like G-Money them n*ggas is b*tches
They all talkin' sh*t, them n*ggas got this sh*t twisted
Yeah, at the end of the day it's tatted on me, no limit, that's 'til I die
If a fake get [?], then we beating him alive
All my n*ggas working hard like a f*ckin' 9-5
I ain't never been a b*tch but I'm buzzin' like a high
That's a B on a whole n*gga just to survive
I used to steal clothes n*gga
Used to sell little bit of weed at the door n*gga
Used to be with n*ggas that was really cooking dope
Yeah, I'm not talking 'bout the fake trappers, talking 'bout the dope dealers
Never was a card cracker, but I run with card crackers—

My nig—, My n*gga Gib', trapper of the year
They lookin' at us like we the rappers of the year
Pull up on the scene choppa shot him like a spear
I been going crazy every motherf*ckin' year, since I was like 5 years
n*gga I'm the freestyle god, but I'm not blasphemous, so yes I thank him
I pull up on the scene like damn these n*ggas tweakin'
I'm a dog bite no barkin' or pantin'

Uh, pantin', he said no blasphemous
You really couldn't touch half of this
You n*ggas on some other sh*t boy
You—, we graduate, school of Hard Knocks
Top, hold on, I said you n*ggas blasphemous
School of Hard Knock, the top notch graduate
Every time I see my n*gga we get bigger and bigger
Every time I see my n*gga we get richer and richer, ha
Everything on me, I done made about a million, this watch they Richard, ha

Ayy the next watch
G-Money, they not ready for the next watch
That b*tch gon' f*ck they heads up
That b*tch gon' f*ck they bread up
Tryna keep up with what we doin'
All the b*tches that we screwin'
They like library books to these n*ggas they be renewin'
I don't really got no time for these n*ggas they straight manure
I'm the sh*t, I came from the gutter, came from the sewer
Wasn't sh*t but some noodles and, for my f*ckin' supper sh*t
Maybe some raviolis that's why nowadays I don't f*ck wit' it
I remember they was like that n*gga Juice on some other sh*t
n*ggas at school tried me cause I was on that sucker sh*t
Until I hit him in his face, it wasn't no sucker punch
They put me in a charter school after that, I was skippin' lunch
n*ggas talkin' stupid I pull up and smoke 'em like a blunt
G-Money said you don't gotta shoot, give lil' bro the gun
I'm like cool he could own it, I'd still like to blow it
I don't—, I'm a real n*gga though, I don't gotta show it
With the lean I'ma pour it, with these words I'm a poet
With these tats I'm an artist, with yo' life I'ma slay it
Bad b*tch I'ma slay her, from space, Princess Leia
I'm an evil f*ckin' villain, bad b*tches in my lair
b*tches from the Himalayas saying that they wanna label me cause a—
Tien like a Super Saiyan, pull up on the scene with the ruger sprayin'
Like what was you just sayin'?
All my n*ggas high like Michael Jackson, they in Neverland

Yo, when a n*gga tapped in like that you don't even catch it
Unless you got the text, somethin' stupid like cupid
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