Lyrics:
y'all niggas keep hatin me
Y'all gone make a nigga posse up and come and getcha bitch
Grab that nigga by his throat, if he hollas, let em go
I ain't gon'
baby
Juicy Juicy Juicy
Can you go down
My Cherie
My Cherie
Ariana
Ariana
Ariana
Come to my Kando meka be your Rambo
Ariana
Ay
Uhh Hmm
It's gone By
Two
da-da-doo-doot
And just dance
Spin that record, babe, da-da-doo-doot
And just dance
Gonna be okay, da-da-da-dance, dance, dance
Just, j-j-just
When I come
microphone
Come and get this ice-cream cone
Or I'll deliver it when your daddy ain't home
Grown and healthy, that's how I like 'em
Big juicy legs
microphone
Come and get this ice-cream cone
Or I'll deliver it when your daddy ain't home
Grown and healthy, that's how I like 'em
Big juicy legs
nigga, that to me you so cash nigga
Stuffed in a Louie bag nigga, Juicy J be that nigga
Big bag of that stank killer, codeine in my drink killer
Mostly
wind ripping down the alley at dawn
And the morning paper flies
Dead man lying by the side of the road
With the daylight in his eyes
Don't let it bring
on her
I'ma I'ma put it on her
I'ma I'ma put it on her
Day 26
When this one come on
All the ladies gon rush the dance floor
Please believe me, yeah
I saw you strolling by your solitary
Am I nosy? Very, very
I'd like to be a juicy huckleberry
What you're after is a gal
We're both in luck, for
Hits me all so cold
Find me sittin' by myself
No excuses, then I know
Yeah, it's fine
We'll walk down the line
Leave our rain, a cold
Trade for
Is it okay? Is it you?
Or have they come to take me away?
To take me away
Oh my, love is a lie
Shit my friends say to get me by
It hits
got money to do it
Take your bitch home then I'm all up in that pussy
Old school pimpin' she ain't fuckin' with no rookie
Juicy J be cooler than a fan
Logic
Talk shit, get hit, nigga
This is a world premiere
Logic, Juicy J, College Park
Takin' 'em back to 2011, my nigga
It's a good day (good
down for you
Clip it, zip it, let it fly
If it's good, it's gonna get you high
Drop it, stop it, that ain't the one
We don't even smoke that shit for
J'ai fait tout, j'ai fait tout
You know it's true
J'ai fait tout, j'ai fait tout, j'ai fait tout
You can go and leave me
But you'll come back for
I was an innocent man till someone grassed me of a plan
Of earning some big-a-money
If I hadn't mouthed it about, I am sure without doubt
I'd 'ave
""hell yea"" (hell yea)
If you believe in having sex say ""hell fuck yea"" (yes sir)
[Verse 1: Juicy J]
Shawty throw me that ass, hold up let me see it
a place like that to go
You just have to go there
If you got no place special
Well then, you just go no place special
I guess it's just the summer in
at the Grammys, Tom Ford to my feet (ah-ha)
Boss on the avi, Rihanna screensaver
Whenever you see fat boy, I know it mean paper (we trippy, mane, uh)
Juicy J
Been here for a while I was like, "Fuck trial"
I puts it down, I'm so Young Money
If you got eyes look at me now, bitch
Look at me now, look at me
doo-doo-mmm
Just dance, spin that record, babe, da da doo-doo-mmm
Just dance, gonna be okay, d-d-d-dance
Dance, dance, just, j-j-just
When I come through
I got some killers so don't push me
Juicy J be on some mob shit
Waitin' by your door step hot in the bullshit
If it comes down to it ain't no thang
Confrontation, confrontation
Confrontation, confrontation
[Mary J. Blige]
Are you mad because I turned it around?
But if I stayed the same
You would still
a bus that never shows
You just start walkin' on
They say that if it's right, you know
Each bar plays our song
Nothing has ever felt so wrong
Oh
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