Create lyrics explanation
Select some words and click "Explain" button. Then type your
knowledge, add image or YouTube video till "Good-o-meter" shows
"Cool" or "Awesome!". Publish your explanation with "Explain"
button. Get karma points!
Juice WRLD – BBC Radio 1Xtra Freestyle lyrics
[Verse 1]
I never gave a fuck
I'll fuck Ir bitch, she give it all, uh
I got the- [?]
Run up on me then I hit them all, uh
Gigolo, gigolo, gigolo, uh
She got my dick, she gon' jiggle it, uh
I'm on the top, I'm on the top
Getting top from a bitch yelling, piglet, uh
Look at the way that i swag, uh
I got Gucci on my bag, uh
I ain't lookin' at the tags
Bad bitch, I hit it from the back, uh
I'm in Dior, spend a rack, uh
Maybe a rack on a rack, uh
Where I'm from, I say, "I'm from Chiraq", uh
Run up on me, them pistols'll clap, uh, yeah
[Verse 2]
That's my flow
Look at that girl, that's yo' ho'
Look at her style, she all gold
She wanna fuck, I said no
I ain't even wanna hit her
But I may go ahead and fuck her sister
Pull up on the scene, choppa' spinnin' like a twister
Goddamn, Goddamn, huh, yeah
That's how J kill it, uh
Run up on me, I kill it, uh
Fry him, he in a skillet, uh
All these-
I feel it
[Verse 3]
Back end, fuckin' a bitch from the back end
Like [?], get it crackin'
Guy know me, I ain't lackin'
Before the [?]
Win a race like first place
Run it back, so cold like relay
Scratch, scratch on a bitch, no DJ, uh
Boy, I swipe pre-paids, nah
I spray black cards, huh, ayy
With no delay, huh
My flow crazy, huh
Doped up like the 80's, huh
Big guns like the navy
Rock-a-by with the choppa' like babies, huh, yeah
[Verse 4]
Man, i could really talk some shit on this one
Pull the trues down, i could take a shit on this one
I feel like a baller, set a pick on this one
She wanna fan, she gon' take a pic on this one
Take a picture sitting on my dick, huh
Hit the filters up to make sure that it's fixed
Make it look big, huh
She gon' dance like an Irish Jig, huh, ayy
I'm not a rabbit but these tricks not for little kids, huh
I'm a master rapper, uh
'Matter fact, I'm probably with a torch and a bitch burning down tabernacles
I get the last laugh
I'm bombin' like Baghdad
If that bitch swallow my kids
Do that make me a bad dad?, uh
I'm an ass, lad
I'm an asshole with cash-flow, huh
Yo' girl fuckin', that bitch bashful
She got her hands in the air listenin' Beyonce
"Single ladies over here", that's what I say
[Verse 5]
Early to the party
Then again, I'm fashionably late off the molly
Run a train on yo' bitch
That's a stylish ass trolly
Out Dior, spend a couple pounds, nigga try me
Did I say, "a couple pounds"?
I meant a couple thousand
Money in my pocket, could build a platinum fountain
And if I pull up with security
That's my 40
Cause never in my life have i needed bouncers
I been so "fuck this" and so "fuck that'
My bitch talks up it, say, "Get the fuck back"
I feel like a crackhead hiding- woah
I feel like a crackhead hiding work how i spit crack
I got so much drive, if I stop it, you catchin' whiplash
I hit the strip club
Throw a couple bands on yo' bitch ass
I was getting cash ever since I was a youngin'
I feel like Drake and Future, ballin'
Jumpman, Jumpman, Jumpman
Pull up on me, get to bussin'
Choppa on me with combustion
My word is my weapon
So is my [?] and i got that from the West end
With a bad bitch, she bussin'
And he best friend more open than a book, uh
She fucked my cousin, I ain't even have to look, uh
Ain't talkin' boxing, I ain't gotta throw a hook
I freestyle crazy, kinda like an open book
That's probably cause when I was little I was reading books, uh
[Verse 6]
See, now I'm smarter
Got my arm in the rim
I'm ballin' like Vince Carter
Always ball like a starter
At yo' head like a barber
Bombin' hard, Pearl Harbor
Try me if you want it
You get smoked like a Backwood full of marijuana
[Outro]
Ain't no weed getting saved around me
That bitch fuck for free
That shit a guarantee
I'm in London, so I tell her she not my cup of tea
Talkin' dumb-
I never gave a fuck
I'll fuck Ir bitch, she give it all, uh
I got the- [?]
Run up on me then I hit them all, uh
Gigolo, gigolo, gigolo, uh
She got my dick, she gon' jiggle it, uh
I'm on the top, I'm on the top
Getting top from a bitch yelling, piglet, uh
Look at the way that i swag, uh
I got Gucci on my bag, uh
I ain't lookin' at the tags
Bad bitch, I hit it from the back, uh
I'm in Dior, spend a rack, uh
Maybe a rack on a rack, uh
Where I'm from, I say, "I'm from Chiraq", uh
Run up on me, them pistols'll clap, uh, yeah
[Verse 2]
That's my flow
Look at that girl, that's yo' ho'
Look at her style, she all gold
She wanna fuck, I said no
I ain't even wanna hit her
But I may go ahead and fuck her sister
Pull up on the scene, choppa' spinnin' like a twister
Goddamn, Goddamn, huh, yeah
That's how J kill it, uh
Run up on me, I kill it, uh
Fry him, he in a skillet, uh
All these-
I feel it
[Verse 3]
Back end, fuckin' a bitch from the back end
Like [?], get it crackin'
Guy know me, I ain't lackin'
Before the [?]
Win a race like first place
Run it back, so cold like relay
Scratch, scratch on a bitch, no DJ, uh
Boy, I swipe pre-paids, nah
I spray black cards, huh, ayy
With no delay, huh
My flow crazy, huh
Doped up like the 80's, huh
Big guns like the navy
Rock-a-by with the choppa' like babies, huh, yeah
[Verse 4]
Man, i could really talk some shit on this one
Pull the trues down, i could take a shit on this one
I feel like a baller, set a pick on this one
She wanna fan, she gon' take a pic on this one
Take a picture sitting on my dick, huh
Hit the filters up to make sure that it's fixed
Make it look big, huh
She gon' dance like an Irish Jig, huh, ayy
I'm not a rabbit but these tricks not for little kids, huh
I'm a master rapper, uh
'Matter fact, I'm probably with a torch and a bitch burning down tabernacles
I get the last laugh
I'm bombin' like Baghdad
If that bitch swallow my kids
Do that make me a bad dad?, uh
I'm an ass, lad
I'm an asshole with cash-flow, huh
Yo' girl fuckin', that bitch bashful
She got her hands in the air listenin' Beyonce
"Single ladies over here", that's what I say
[Verse 5]
Early to the party
Then again, I'm fashionably late off the molly
Run a train on yo' bitch
That's a stylish ass trolly
Out Dior, spend a couple pounds, nigga try me
Did I say, "a couple pounds"?
I meant a couple thousand
Money in my pocket, could build a platinum fountain
And if I pull up with security
That's my 40
Cause never in my life have i needed bouncers
I been so "fuck this" and so "fuck that'
My bitch talks up it, say, "Get the fuck back"
I feel like a crackhead hiding- woah
I feel like a crackhead hiding work how i spit crack
I got so much drive, if I stop it, you catchin' whiplash
I hit the strip club
Throw a couple bands on yo' bitch ass
I was getting cash ever since I was a youngin'
I feel like Drake and Future, ballin'
Jumpman, Jumpman, Jumpman
Pull up on me, get to bussin'
Choppa on me with combustion
My word is my weapon
So is my [?] and i got that from the West end
With a bad bitch, she bussin'
And he best friend more open than a book, uh
She fucked my cousin, I ain't even have to look, uh
Ain't talkin' boxing, I ain't gotta throw a hook
I freestyle crazy, kinda like an open book
That's probably cause when I was little I was reading books, uh
[Verse 6]
See, now I'm smarter
Got my arm in the rim
I'm ballin' like Vince Carter
Always ball like a starter
At yo' head like a barber
Bombin' hard, Pearl Harbor
Try me if you want it
You get smoked like a Backwood full of marijuana
[Outro]
Ain't no weed getting saved around me
That bitch fuck for free
That shit a guarantee
I'm in London, so I tell her she not my cup of tea
Talkin' dumb-
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/j/juice_wrld/bbc_radio_1xtra_freestyle.html
