[Part 1: Prod. Hit-Boy & G. Ry]
[Intro: Charlie Sloth & Juice WRLD]
"You know what time it is when you hear this, right?"
Uuuh, let's get ready to ruuumble!
Hit-Boy (Uh)
"Oh, it's a Hit-Boy joint, huh?"
G. Ry got me
"Yeah, okay, huh, okay, uh uh, okay, uh uh, okay, hm."
Sonic boom!
[Verse: Juice WRLD]
Baby, I'm stuck in my ways
It's been a couple of days
I could fuck you for days
Guess I'm stuck in my ways
Yes, I'm young and I'm paid
So they hearts getting slayed
I'm a rebel, I'm a rockstar, take it to the grave, uh
Molly at the rave, yes I misbehave, uh huh
Molly at the rave, yes I misbehave, uh huh
I'm gon' do the dash on my dirt bike, fuck a Wraith
Everybody the same color to me, I'm screaming "Fuck a race!"
Anybody want a problem with me, they gon' get erased
My pencil, ayy
I got the life pencil, erase your ass away
Listen to the way I spit on it, huh
Look at this beat, I'ma get on it, huh
No hip-hop but I'ma spit on it, huh
Your girl said she gon' spit on it, huh
That nigga don't got shit on me, huh
That nigga fake, that nigga hate
Bitch, I am Givenchy, he Abercrombie, it's a difference that I make
All the money that I make is mine, just won't a nigga ever take
I don't really never take my time, especially when I be spitting lines
This is off the dome when I hit it
Freestyle, I ain't rippin' the written
Beat the pussy, I don't fuck with the kitten
In the cut probably holdin' a Smith &
That's Cupid, tryna make me shuffle like Cupid
No Nike, but I just do it
Juice WRLD, Triple 9, that's a movement
Yeah, molly at the rave, I misbehave
Hm, molly at the rave, I'm gon' misbehave
Freestyle a song on the radio, damn near everyday
Ayy, molly at the rave, I'm gon' misbehave
See, it's me and Charlie, we in the party
I'm feeling gnarly, I'm off a perky, mixed with the molly
If she want a train, I'll call a trolly
I get it popping
I'm Tony Hawk and I feel like a ollie
But I'm on a beat like a damn Kamikaze
I'm a rockstar, Black Sabbath, no Ozzy
Pull up in a Mazi, nigga can't stop me
Knock 'em out like Rocky
I'm young and rich and humble just ain't wanna be too cocky
But shit, muck around with my hand on my cock
Gun to the opps, run up get popped
I'm at the Gucci shop, buy what I want, yeah
Cause I deserve it, my flow is perfect (Perfect)
There's snakes in the grass, with my John Deere help me see the serpents
God gave me the sermon, he told me I earned it
I'm looking at the bridges that I'm tryna rebuild
Should've never burned 'em
That's life, it's trial and error, niggas is full of mistakes
I'm eating so good that I had to put VVS's on my plate
I'm working out my problems, my demons they in good shape
But I'm in better shape
Boxing the devil, like damn he didn't know I was a heavyweight
(He's heating up, heating up, heating up)
But still misbehave
Molly at the rave, still misbehave
Chains 'round my neck, I told you, I ain't finna be no slave
Put that on my grave
Molly at the rave, misbehave (Huh, yeah, hehe)
(Hahaha)
[Part 2: Prod. Hit-Boy]
[Interlude: Charlie Sloth & Juice WRLD]
"Are you a special guy, Juice WRLD, now you're a special guy!"
(Hit-Boy)
"You're a special guy!"
"Thank you, brother."
"Ayy, ayy your freestyle are better than certain mens' full songs, my G."
("Hahaha.")
"Wow."
"Oof."
"Okay, okay, yeah, uh huh, uh, uh huh"
"I like this one."
"Uh huh, uh huh, yeah, uh, uh huh, look, uh."
(Hadou-Hadou-Hadou-)
"Let's get 'em, Juice, let's get 'em!"
[Verse: Juice WRLD]
I'ma spaz, breathing fire like a dragon
Nigga off a Xan, on the track I'm probably draggin'
I don't got time for these ticks and these maggots
Automatic flows, load my verbs up, let 'em have it
Ballin' like a Maverick
Make 'em disappear, magic
Niggas get in a accident
Fuckin' with me, it's tragic
They don't want no smoke, nah, they don't want no cancer
Prayin' that they find a cure to cancer, we need answers
Shitting on my ex so much that I don't got no manners
Up in school, I used to skip, and roll that doja in my planner, uh
I go nuts like Planters, uh
All of this God's plan, uh, man
Hope you understand I shoot like a choppa from Afghanistan, uh, yeah
Look, switch my flow up, mix the liquor with the Percs
Hope I don't throw up, lean I pour up
Need some mo' until I got red guts, 'til I got purp' guts
Niggas can't fuck with us, huh
Mayweather with the uppercut, uh
Hit him in the stomach like five or six times 'til he had enough, uh
Freestyle I kick it, off of the dome like a frog, I ribbit
Hop on the beat, you know I rip it
Rip it to riddance, rip it to smithereens
They don't wanna fuck with me, I'm with the fuckery
Rushin' hours, wit a kick, like hi yah!, Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker be, damn(Perfect)
Bitch I'm confident, this flow to me it's common sense
Uh huh, I'm gonna bomb, no offense on that Osama shit, uh huh
That's your mama shit, put my dick up in your mama shit, uh huh
W-W-W, ain't on shit dot com and shit, uh huh
Look at my flow though, I'm outta space, bitch, I'm on Pluto
Feel like the Oz, I'm a wizard but I'm a dog, call me Toto
Pose for the photo, that lil' bitch dance like Gogo, oh
No-no, she get low-low like a limbo
Fuck her then I pass her to my kinfolk, ugh
007 with the ammo, uh
Pull up on the scene like Rambo, uh
Money older than your grandfolks' grandfolks
Nigga you cannot handle, oh, huh
Yo bitch up in my hand like a Game Boy
Then again I turn that power off, this not no game, boy
Huh, Barack Obama, I always wanted to change, boy
Pennies, dimes, quarters, all the nines, I want the change, boy
My niggas from over East, you know they got that range, boy
I'm sad to say this not no XBOX, not no game, boy
Huh, not no game, boy, this not no game, boy
Ain't no PS, ain't no XBOX, not no game, boy
Go insane boy, this is off the brain, boy
But not no PS, not no XBOX, not no BS
Nigga, I won't stop
[Part 3: Prod. Hit-Boy & G. Ry]
[Interlude: Charlie Sloth & Juice WRLD]
"Wow, wow! Juice WRLD blew that."
"Mhm."
"That-That shit really be freestyle, right?"
"Off the dome."
"I don't know how you do that."
"How 'bout we try this? This next song,"
"Yeah."
"is to prove to these motherfuckers, just throw words out there."
"You want me to throw different words out there?"
"Every now 'n' then, just throw words out there."
"Just- o-oh my gosh."
"Yeah."
"I nee-I nee-I need people to understand, that normally when-when the,"
"Yeah."
"artists comes in to do Fire in the Booth, they would've taken like three months to write it. They will always sit down to write it, and they'll prepare it. And you,"
"Yeah. See, look."
"You just come in here, and said, 'I don't wanna hear the beats,'"
"Yeah
"'I-I just wanna freestyle over the beats.'"
"Uh huh."
"A-And now you're saying, 'Throw some words at me, Sloth.'"
"Yup. Some words, fuckin' words."
"Alright."
"Mhm."
"I mean, I struggle with even words, I don't know how you freestyle."
"I mean, I can barely talk, I can just rap."
Hit-Boy
[Verse: Juice WRLD & Charlie Sloth]
Uh, on these words I'm intricate
But when I speak to 'em, I'm a little illiterate
I'm balling on these hoes
Best believe I'ma get it (G. Ry got me)
I'm tryna get that rich money like I'm Ellen DeGeneres
I'm killing it, killing it, uh, I'ma hit a lick
Like I'm licking the clitoris, uh
I'ma keep on killing, drilling, full of adrenaline, uh
I feel like a villain, Dragon Ball, I'm like Krillin or some'in'
I'ma get this cash, best believe that I'm spendin' it
Then I'm getting it back
Bobby Brown up in the trap, from the way I'm spitting this crack
Nigga, to be exact my flow is off of the map
Every time that I spit all these niggas toppin' they hats
Sayin' I am the man again
Nigga's faking it, they mannequins
Walk in the sky like I'm Anakin
Gucci all on my flannel
People thinking they understand but they really can't comprehend
I'm that- On that TV station, you can't reach the channel
Really, really these niggas are just too silly
I'm Meek Milly with flows, how I pop a wheelie
Run through the six, like woes
I fuck with Drizzy, every song Drake hop on, he bound to get busy
Every song that Juice hop on is bound to get icky
Fuck the beat until it cums so I'm leaving it sticky
(Threesomes)
Niggas can't fuck with me, you know that I beat 'em
Um, Ice on my wrist, I finna freeze 'em
Life is a bitch, fuck with me, she'll leave ya
I'm ballin' out, every day I'm a hit 'em
Got my hand on my heater
They say they don't fuck with me
Shit, I don't fuck with me either
We one of the same people
Nah, we different
I'm at the top and you at the bottom
It's a Magnum in my pocket, a gun
Also a condom, niggas thinkin' it snakes, but I see the anaconda
Really, I'm just gonna sing this shit like it's an opera
(Free 21 Savage)
Free 21 Savage, they tryna send him back to UK
He livin' lavish, he over here he gettin' too payed
They can't manage, they wanna see a nigga fail
That's how they planned it (He's on fire)
But I'ma continue to go nuts like Planters
Listenin' to Red Opps, 21, he spazzin'
And me, I got fire, I feel like a dragon
I'm flying on this beat like a carpet, Aladdin
I'm out of space, on Saturn, I'm spitting these flows
You know how it is, I rap a little to switch up the flow
This shit for the kids, I do it for the people back home
That didn't believe, I'm finna take a shit in they house
(London City)
And then I'ma leave
You said London?
We get it bustin' up in London, like a concussion
Off of the top, the way I run it, explode like combustion
You ain't talking money, then fuck it
That's the end of discussion, man (Perfect)
I can't believe what I'm saying
(Cherries and oranges)
I can't believe what I'm saying, you know this shit ain't a plan, huh
Ay, I'm at your door, warning ya, huh
Banana clip, I aim at your orange and shit
Really, I'm just at your fuckin' cabinet like a cabbage patch
I ain't with the battle rap
But if I wanted I could battle rap any battle rapper, and body him
Put him in a pill and pop him like he was Molly and
(Cardi B)
Ayy, Cardi B she got them hits too
Cardi B, she that bitch too, Cardi B, yeah, she rich too
I'm tryna get Cardi B rich, you feel me fool?
Man, I got the money in my pocket though, a couple in my wallet
With some millions in my face, I dare a nigga try to stop it
Please don't get out of pocket, we get the pop and the knockin's
I remember bein' in Illinois robbin' and robbin' for Robin, couldn't afford it
Now I'm payin' my mortgage
I just bought my mom a car so you know that shit gorgeous
Pull up on 'em, I'm ballin', shooting I'm feeling like Spalding
Matter of fact, I'm Michael Jordan
From the free throw, I've been soaring, ya dig?
[Part 4: Prod. Hit-Boy]
[Interlude: Charlie Sloth, Juice WRLD & Crew Member]
"I don't think I've met anyone like you in my life, bro. It's been real. Wow."
"Thank you, bro."
"That, I was struggling to come up with words. I didn't even know I could do that, I couldn't even think of words. You were comin' up with whole songs, and I was strugglin', I'm like what could I say, aho. We'll do one more?"
"Mhm."
"Yeah?"
"Let's do it."
"How's that taste? That taste good?"
"Mango."
"Mango?"
"I'll be asleep bro. I'll be, wargh."
"No no. This is-This is nicotine."
"Oh, is it?"
"Yeah."
"Alright, lemme try that."
"It's nicotine. Hits good, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, that's good, man."
"It's like a cigarette, a little bit."
"You wanna-Try my one."
"It was you that had that big ass rig?"
"Yeah, yes yes."
"But they don't sell Juul pods in-in-in London that have 5% nicotine, though."
"Right."
"This has 5, y'all have, what was it? Maximum 1?"
"That's 3."
"1.7."
"It's 3? I think all y'alls have 3 though, right?"
"3 maximum. Them shits was trash."
"Shit. It's cloudy."
"Yeah. I f- I-I couldn't even do this- I remember when I couldn't even do this. I used to try and blow clouds, and I would be-"
"I-I hope I don't get fired for doing this in the studio, 'cause m-my bosses are outside."
"It's not no weed."
"I- yeah, I mean, I don't wanna get fired, I just started."
"Well, you're in America, dude."
"What-What... Was that caramel?"
"Uh?"
"That's caramel?"
"Yeah, it's nice, huh?"
"If crème brûlée Juul tasted like that, I-I would smoke crème brûlée, but crème brûlée tastes horrible."
Hit-Boy
[Verse: Juice WRLD & Charlie Sloth]
Yeah
Okay, Hit-Boy
Oh, you never heard this one either?
Nope
Okay
Okay, Hit-Boy
Let's get it, Juice!
Okay, Hit-Boy, you the shit, boy
Me and you make some songs and get rich, boy (Woo)
I just told you I've been paying my mama rent, boy (Ooh)
That's the best money that I ever spent, boy (C'mon!)
I'ma pull up in an all black Benz, boy
Sippin' codeine with my black friends, boy (Uh huh)
I'ma pull up on Versace lens, boy (Hey!)
Every day you know I'm bound to get it in, boy (Yeah!)
Me and Charlie Sloth gettin' to this money all day (Okay)
Rockin' Ksubi and Amiri, I don't do the Balmains (Uh)
Knock it out the park, if we talkin' a ball game
Like I said, Barack Obama, I'm really with all change (Uh huh)
Charlie got the Vikings on his shirt, I'm like a Viking (Woof)
Fuck a bitch and leave her, guess I'm a little too triflin' (Oof;Perfect)
I'ma Mike & Ike it, I'ma Mike & Ike it
Fist up with the clip tucked, good at fightin'
Knock 'em out in one or two punches, I'm Tyson
Listen to the next project you better buy it (Mm)
It's gon' be the realest shit you heard, I ain't lyin'
It's gon' be the realest shit you heard, I ain't lyin' (Yeah!)
I'm defiant, 2012, end his world like the Mayans
Kill every beat and I ain't even really tryin'
I'ma tell the truth, no frontin', no lyin'
I vibe to survive, my flow is the hottest
The highest, the fliest
Flyer than a pilot, my gun a librarian, it got a silence
But I still want sanity and the peace
So I'll do anything to kill all the violence
But back in Chicago it's bustin'
Niggas really shooting guns like the shit is nothing
Killing moms, kids, and children, boy this shit is disgusting
We gon' need more than a talk, more than a discussion
All I know is get the cash, yeah, get the cash
Catch up, tell them niggas, "Catch up"
They gon' need some backup
Remember hittin' stains like mustard and ketchup
Now I'm too ahead, 100 miles per hour, catch us
If you can, but you can't
I'm the motherfucking champ
You ain't Triple 9, then fuck you, get the fuck out my camp
Niggas thinking that they in it
They always come and doubt until I ball like a warrior
Switch up like I'm Durant
I'm a shoot from the three, niggas can't fuck with me
Not with the fuckery
Hotter than the summer be
Niggas really think they spell it out
But I'ma spell it clearly
Like a nigga gettin' an "A" and doing a fucking spelling bee
[Outro: Charlie Sloth & Juice WRLD]
"Ay! Juice WRLD in the building!"
"Uh huh."
"Man, you just made my day, bro."
"You just made my day, bro."
"And that in the rest of my life."
"Man, love love."
"Just to- Just to re-in-store the faith."
"Love, sir."
"Lyrics is still there, pull neck."
"Yes, sir."
"Know what I mean? I need that in my life."
"Yes, sir."
"Woo."