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juice wrld - busch (studio session) كلمات الأغنية

[chorus]
so many drugs in my body, i’m exhausted
i got thugs in the lobby, in the club, f_ck your posse
f_ck with me, i leave you sitting in a coffin
bullets eating up your body, one to the head, now you silent
i remember window shopping, now i cop sh_t
so much gucci in my closet, banded up, f_ck a wallet
all my fans telling me that i should drop sh_t
what you want? i got options, fifty albums in my pocket

[post_chorus]
artist of the motherf_cking year
people scream my name from london to j_pan
codeine sip, i don’t want no f_cking beer
everywhere i go, they know i’m the f_cking man
i get so high i won’t ever land
la in the summertime, get a f_cking tan
but i don’t go outside at all
[verse 1]
that sh_t be having my girl p_ssed off
sorry, i’m anti, but for her love i’m antsy
everyday wanna get in her panties
every night in the stu’ making grammies
just gave fifty bands to my mommy
just gave ten bands to my auntie
you couldn’t do that if you worked your whole life
i know why you’re worried ’bout me, n_gga, you don’t got your own life
hollering at my b_tch like you ain’t got your own wife
they tell me if i take too many of these percs, then i’m gon’ die
f_ck it, i’ma pray to god for a long life
still gon’ live a wrong life

[verse 2]
walk up in the building off the pills, yeah, i run it
i’m in the cut with them gunners
i’m a pedestrian, gunna
run up on me then it’s nothin’
barbarian money, i feel like a stunner
started it from the bottom, feel like drake on the n_gga
got my own money, i can’t never hate on a n_gga
n_ggas think they real but they fake, lil’ n_gga
say you eatin’ good, pass the plate, lil’ n_gga
i make bread with my n_ggas, i make bread with my b_tches
i make bread
got a fresh full of liquor, got a gun with a bullet in the head
bad b_tch from taiwana, said she love the marijuana that i spread
talk dumb then i’ma up ’em, big choppas with the gun, a n_gga dead
headshot put his brains on the low
headshots, backshots with his ho
ball out like derek, n_gga, rose
ballerina gun keep you on your toes (uh_huh)
gun on me, c_ck it back and then i realod (uh_huh, yeah, uh_huh)
gun sing, american idol with the glee show (uh_huh)
bape up on my cape, but no, i’m not a hero (yeah, uh_huh)
vvs on my neck, my sh_t is sub_zero (woah, woah)
[chorus]
so many drugs in my body, i’m exhausted
i got thugs in the lobby, in the club, f_ck your posse
f_ck with me, i leave you sitting in a coffin
bullets eating up your body, one to the head, now you silent
i remember window shopping, now i cop sh_t
so much gucci in my closet, banded up, f_ck a wallet
all my fans telling me that i should drop sh_t
what you want? i got options, fifty albums in my pocket

- juice wrld

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