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juice wrld - carry it unr lyrics

[intro]
uh+huh, yeah
i’ma talk some sh+t (gezin), uh+huh, yeah
i’m in the cut with an aerial (8+8+8+808 mafia)
um, i’m bound to blow up like a aerial (yeah)
the n+ggas with me don’t really speak no english
they scream and they shoot like barbarians (oh yeah)
i just saw a p+ssy, i just saw a rat
who just let tommy and jerry in? (oh yeah)
these n+ggas don’t really be n+ggas
these n+ggas be b+tches (sheesh), who let tyler perry in? (gleesh)

[chorus]
um, the gun i’ma carry it (gra, gra)
wet ’em up, no aquarium (yeah, yeah)
thirty clip hanging out the .45 (brra)
make it look scarier (let’s go, brra)
ain’t been this high in a long time (yеah)
everyday my money on time (yеah)
your woman blowin’ up my phone line (yeah)
told her i’ll f+ck her on my own time (let’s go)

[verse 1]
strap, aim at your noodle, yes, yes
that’s what amateurs do (brra, brra)
b+tch, i’m a dog, b+tch, i’m an animal, i’m out the zoo
i up the glock, make ’em jump like hopscotch (brra, brra)
leave his ass sick like the flu
bad b+tches, need two, yeah
don’t trust him, he fool, yeah
hangin’ out the roof in balenciaga shoes
virgil abloh on me too (come on)
fresh ass n+gga, all these pest ass n+ggas
i’ma press that n+gga, i’ma shoot (boom)
i’m a vet ass n+gga, up a ‘tec ass n+gga
tryna find peace, ron artest ass n+gga (ayy)
they see blonde dreads, try and test that n+gga (sick ’em)
i’ma have to cardiac arrest a n+gga (sick ’em, sick ’em)
do ’em dirty like old yeller (yeah)
money the age of an old fellow (yeah, yeah)
nicknamed my .45 mayweather
it’s a thot, it’s a ho, a hugh hefner
got the pot on the stove, super chef
i’m 2pac with the juice, makaveli
hundred shots in the tool, battle+ready
dunk on the b+tch, i’m rim+rattle mcgrady
ice on your b+tch in a tinted mercedes (uh+huh)
d+ck so good, she started to pay me (uh+huh)
i got the cup like i came from the ’80s (uh+huh)
there’s white in my cup like i came from the ’80s (ayy)
you sittin’ in coach with your b+tch and your baby (ayy)
i’m up in first with my first f+ckin’ lady (ayy)
she been lovin’ the way i been f+ckin’ her lately (ayy)
f+ck around, f+ck around, give her a baby (ayy)
[chorus]
um, the gun i’ma carry it (yeah)
wet ’em up, no aquarium (yeah, yeah)
thirty clip hanging out the .45 (blaow)
make it look scarier (let’s go)
ain’t been this hot in a long time (yeah)
every day my money on time (yeah)
your woman blowin’ up my phone line (yeah)
told her i’ll f+ck her on my own time (yeah)

[verse 2]
uh, um, i remember i was on the run
i was hitting l!cks just for fun, even though i was broke
no, i ain’t have no dough so i was tryna get me some
tryna rob me, nah
tryna rob me, n+gga, you dumb, best believe i’m gon’ keep one
got a 30 and a drum, got a h+rny ass gun on me
i’ma up it, get to bustin’, make it cum
got a h+rny+ass ho on my phone, wonder what she on
i’ma make her bust it open, make her cum, yeah
fendi coat help me hide gun, yeah
wet ’em up, fire hydrant, yeah
call my draco neji, yeah, sixty+four shot tri gun, yeah
so many drugs around me, if you with me you gon’ try some, yeah
i dip the blunt in the actavis
i pour a four with a potion, i’m passionate
i’m wreakin’ havoc, i’m chillin’ with savages
shootin’ like mavericks with them automatics
radical but i move highly irrational
beat a n+gga ass in the club like raditz
guess i forgot all of my home trainin’
’cause everywhere we go, we keep the ratchet
[chorus]
um, the gun i’ma carry it (yeah)
wet ’em up, no aquarium (yeah, yeah)
thirty clip hanging out the .45 (yeah)
make it look scarier (let’s go, gezin)
ain’t been this hot in a long time (yeah)
everyday my money on time (yeah)
your woman blowin’ up my phone line (yeah, 8+8+8+808 mafia)
told her i’ll f+ck her on my own time (yeah)

- juice wrld lyrics

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