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murder rate freestyle 3 - juice wrld lyrics

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[verse]
ballin’ lil’ percs, sound like moroccans, yeah
rose on my hip, waka flocka, yeah
i’m in the cut wit’ my choppa, yeah
i’m in my sprinter and i got ’em sprintin’
usain bolt, b*tch, i be winnin’, yeah
she look like eve to me
’cause easily, i got your b*tch sinnin’
yeah, colder than winter
i put a wood in that b*tch, now that b*tch got a splinter, yeah
you is a rat, 6ix9ine*ass n*gga, no master splinter, yeah
b*tch, i’m a winner, b*tch, i’m the best
metta world peace, like ron artest
ain’t talkin’ like a ref, but if you act foul, i’ma hit yo ass wit’ this tec
flow so smooth, huh
dance in yo’ b*tch and she lovin’ my groove, huh
she say that i’m so stylish
she wanna suck my d*ck while i keep on my shoes, yeah
yeah, ayy, jordan fours, fives, sixes, sevens and twos, huh, ayy
elevens, nines, well yeah, i do got a few, huh, ayy
let’s go, this beat bang like metro
sticky weed like a schedule, huh
i’m a rockstar, heavy metal, huh
pullin’ strings, i feel like geppetto, huh
i just did a show, let’s go, huh
i’m sendin’ money to the ghetto
send it back to my daddy, grand folks
pull up on him with the new rambo
i’ma shoot a n*gga with my eyes closed
cl!ck*clack, bow, reload
gun sing like american idol
got my hand on my rifle
you’ll get dropped like a gangster disciple
n*gga, f*ck the title
merch on her p*ssy like her p*ssy bible
uh*uh*uh, uh

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