Lyrics Juice WRLD – Uh Huh
Text:
808 Mafia
Uh huh, yeah
The reason why I’m out on my grind
I’m leavin’ everyone in my gun
Bitch you’re not the one, you’re not the one
Never leave the house without all my guns
Never leave the house without all my guns
I’m lookin’ for trouble but I’m not the one
Not the one, uh huh
Do I got cash? Uh huh, I check a bag, uh huh (Yeah)
Designer my jeans, uh huh, they all sad, uh huh
Niggas mad, uh huh, got my mag, uh huh
Try to hate on me, I leave you in the past, uh huh
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I’m runnin’, I told that bitch, «Uh huh»
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I’m stuntin’, I told that bitch, «Uh huh»
Tell her that I run this shit like Usain Bolt (Uh huh)
I’m Peyton Manning to these fuck niggas, ballin’ like the Colts
I’m sick of ballin’, matter of fact, I may just go become a coach
I go first class, so if they ask, I ain’t ridin’ coach
Never goin’ broke again, I spent a thousand on a coat
Just to say, «I did it,» did it ’cause it’s dope
She gon’ do the dope, then do the most
Know she not no real one, that bitch a hoax
Thank God, I ain’t have to touch the baking soda
But I know niggas in the trap, usin’ the Motorolas
In that bitch’s throat, feel like a Ricola
She do straight coke, I sip Coca-Cola
Do I got cash? Uh huh, I check a bag, uh huh (Yeah)
Designer my jeans, uh huh, they all sad, uh huh
Niggas mad, uh huh, got my mag, uh huh
Try to hate on me, I leave you in the past, uh huh
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I’m runnin’, I told that bitch, «Uh huh»
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I’m stuntin’, I told that bitch, «Uh huh»
I like if she love it, love to flex in public
Thinkin’ nothin’ of it, may shoot up the function
Somethin’ out of nothing, .223 in my Glock, damn
Jumpman, jumpman, jumpman, got the party jumpin’
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I hit Maury up ’cause all these niggas is my sons
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I ain’t come here to fight niggas, go and grab the gun
Call me microwave because I heat up
I bought my stripes and I earn ’em, bitches Adidas
I got a Spanish bitch, I fuck on her amigas
Run up, fire all that 40 off, that ‘lil bitch got a fever, yeah
Do I got cash? Uh huh, I check a bag, uh huh (Yeah)
Designer my jeans, uh huh, they all sad, uh huh
Niggas mad, uh huh, got my mag, uh huh
Try to hate on me, I leave you in the past, uh huh
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I’m runnin’, I told that bitch, «Uh huh»
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I’m stuntin’, I told that bitch, «Uh huh»