Juicy J - Who Run It (Freestyle) lyrics

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Juicy J - Who Run It (Freestyle) lyrics

SHUTDAFUCCUP! Shout up my n***a bebe, abebe G Herbo, A$AP ROCKY Lil Yachty, Trippie Redd Everyone who pay homage to this cla**ic What’s the business, its that playa that you love to hate Always see me comin’ out the bank, diamonds in your face p**y n***a get up out the way, don’t care about what you say Sound proof the Bentley, I can’t hear you n***as any way Pop the steel, cause it get real, I not about them games Cartiers frames, dracula grill, b**h I still keep it trill Hittin’ b**hes from the back with my socks on Memphis n***as keep the Glocks co*ked when the wars on Buyin’ 40s from the corner store, blowin’ smoke Grindin’ like its 94, keep the stash in the floorboards Average tripple dubber on the f**in’ ball court I’m that n***a that you imitate and hoes call for For that dick game, wouldn’t buy your b**h with my loose change Thristy n***as eatin’ b**hes a** with the sh** stain Insane like my f**in’ wrist game n***a, houses on the hill cost the same f**in’ thing Counted up a hunnid this mornin’ Then I went spent me 50 Then I hit the VLive Tryna buy me some a** and titties Rappers sample my old sh**, keep runnin’ ’em bags, I’m uh rich Get ’em samples cleared cause that publish you might not get some n***as act like they don’t owe me somethin’ I’m the reason b**hes t**n’ they a** now show me somethin’ Payin’ homage is a real n***a move, b**h I paid my dues Sold a million out the trunk, you n***as uber poo Pour that mud up like that bu*ter, first n***a with that pipe in the club Used to turn my sh** up had n***as tryna fight in the club And I know I’m ice’d up, pinky just like that a dub You gotta like my sh**, you a hater or somethin’ I’m a grow a** man, you a baby or somethin’ Probably f**ed ya mama on the come up Don’t you ever try to play me, homie Got a wife now like Kanye And I wish a b**h would try to bite her like Beyonce My daughter 2 month and she been paid Botta sign more deal cop more real estate Me and Pat used to rob or ’em petty things Now it’s nothin’ less than private jets, 7 figure checks Hater, catch your f**in’ breathe, you broke, ain’t got nothin’ left We ’em n***as in Dubai from the north, don’t you ever flex Mafia, runnin’ sh**, Juicy J ain’t never quit Ain’t a b**h I never hit, still countin’ paper, b**h When the smoke clears, n***a I’m still here Higher than I been in 20 goddamn years Motherf**in’ legend get your smoke right, dope right Ain’t no conversation or that broke life, show right, b**h Who run it?