[ Featuring Juice WRLD ]
Bad bitches run the world, let me make it clear
When I leave Juice WRLD, I'm back to pink hair
(Haha, Max Lord, preach it)
(Gezin)
I f*ck the blunt up, haha, yeah
I'm on marijuana (marijuana)
My lean plug said he'll be here in a second (pull up)
I'm gettin' high, I'm feelin' restless (I'm sad)
Feel like I'm finna die (R.I.P.)
I f*ck the blunt up, then f*ck your mama (uh-huh)
My VVS cold like a arctic tundra
The .40 on me, woah, you don't want no problems
And you best proceed with some caution, yeah
This song for the girl with the blonde hair
Suck me up good, give me Becky, like yeah
She ride it, like yeah, in a Versace chair
Her boyfriend heated like a grill, no Hibachi, yeah
This Young Money ENT, f*ck that negative Nancy
I'm still ballin', I'm still ballin', NBA on TNT
Came through drippin', D&G, always duckin' TMZ
Flow still need that EMT
Tell her get at me and see
I'm the type of talk, but bitches is the kind like Chakka
I get it before they cop it, always been that type of shopper
And I never tell a lie
I just put one in the sky
I just popped me a transformer, gettin' money 'til we die
'Til we die, we gon' be fly
Made a milli' in Shanghai
I don't need job applications for that pressure I apply
That is why they gotta lie, that is just how they get by
But my flow still gon' be wavy and your flow still gon' be dry
I done f*cked the world up in ten short years
Had teachers like Weezy F. and been all ears
Blue studs that's VVS, then get more pears
They been prayin' on my downfall, still need more prayers, I'ma
F*ck the bag up and f*ck your daddy
I'ma stay up like I popped three Addys
Girl with the blonde hair, they call me Barbie
And let's get faded and have a party, yeah
If you got that bomb, put your hands in the air
Bad bitches run the world, let me make it clear
When I leave Juice WRLD, I'm back to pink hair
Catch me somewhere f*ckin' a blunt up and f*ckin' on your mama
F*ck the blunt up, then f*ck your mama (uh-huh)
My VVS cold like a arctic tundra
The .40 on me, woah, you don't want no problems
And you best proceed with some caution, yeah
This song for the girl with the blonde hair
Suck me up good, give me Becky, like yeah
She ride it, like yeah, in a Versace chair
Her boyfriend heated like a grill, no Hibachi, yeah
I'm high as hell, mind everywhere
Still mind over matter, pockets gettin' fatter, elevate like a ladder
Thirty in that .40 make you percolate like a dancer
I'm colder than the North Pole, Blitzen and Prancer
She say she from the strip pole, she a dirty dancer
Her ex-nigga too low, she don't got no standards
He ain't right
You don't live a better life
Run it up like Jerry Rice
I don't gotta say it twice
This is real life
Your nigga is Fisher-Price
Now you read minds
You was thinkin' 'bout how I'm that nigga, right?
I f*ck the blunt up, then f*ck your mama (uh-huh)
My VVS cold like a arctic tundra
The .40 on me, woah, you don't want no problems
And you best proceed with some caution, yeah
This song for the girl with the blonde hair
Suck me up good, give me Becky, like yeah
She ride it, like yeah, in a Versace chair
Her boyfriend heated like a grill, no Hibachi, yeah
Said he want the pretty girl with the blonde hair
Fatty on the max like some Nike Air
F*ck his last girl 'cause I am her nightmare
Lookin' this good shouldn't even be fair
Said he want the pretty girl with the blonde hair
Fatty on the max like some Nike Air
F*ck his last girl 'cause I am her nightmare
Lookin' this good shouldn't even be-
F*ck the girls that just hate on baddies
Shout the bad bitches that act all bratty
Nothin' but all this designer on me
All of my niggas throwin' up gang signs for me
