Juice WRLD — Object Freestyle No Jumper 21 Minute Freestyle

[Intro] (Hit-Boy) [Verse] You know that is my time, ho Life is money so I got a dime for it Man, I see it but my shades strong This Gucci on my face it help me dap on 'em You know we stay smoking on that indo That Travis Scott antidote But don't call me a random Pullin' up Pinot Grigio Fuckin' your bitch she a sleazy ho I'm sick of her get to sneezy on her I'm sick of her get to sneezy on her I pull up on that Fanta and that Sprite So I told that Pepsi to leave me 'lone All of them wish they got money on Look at my jacket, it's Vlone Look at your bitch listening to Lucid Dreams I know that shit is her theme song I control that bitch like a remote Run up on me then I'm down to blow All of my niggas they grippin' poles Illuminati wit' it 'cause I'll take your soul I go harder Get her wetter than bottles of water Call me stupid I'll pull up on him And I'll dance like my major pulled up in a charger I'ma die for my shit like a martyr I'ma die for my shit like a martyr Talking shit 'til I pull up on you wit' that handy pack See martyr niggas I'm hotter All my niggas got shit like varietal I see all of this shit like horizon All my niggas get money for real tho In my kitchen I'm movin' them pills ho Hopefully this shit hit home Fucking that bitch like let's go Hit that bitch on my cell phone I won't fuck she on her menstrual I murder these instrumentals I'ma hit that bitch with a backstroke I'ma hit that bitch from the back But, shit, I'm hot you know how it is ho Every day I wake up lit tho Niggas know what it is, what it is ho Pull up on the scene look like big cloak It was a green lighter, that weren't no bic tho I smoke big gas, I smoke big blunts Talkin' that shit nigga waiting on nothin' Look at your bank I just see 20s I got hunnids, you got ones I'm not the one, you is my son Pull up on the scene, I make him run All of my guns is horny as fuck Pull up on the block and I'll make them cum Yeah I make this shit look simple We poppin' like proactive and a bunch of fucking pimples I pull up in that bitch I'm past high She my computer, my dick is that bitch flash drive I get the cash, nigga you know I'm too fly Your bitch fuckin' my bitch In the end she too bi You know I don't box But I'm fucking like the box You talkin' stupid 'til you catch a shot about this Glock Your bitch up on my cock I told that bitch to stop And watch And all I do is get cash and relax, and plot Just turn me up a notch I wake up smoking the pot That's a camera I flash just like a camera, when it pops And if you got it, then you got it See his Gucci on his wallet Is it Gucci or is this Louis My designer has me confused, I don't need to stop it I just cop it Feel like Drake I start from the bottom I get long neck from your bitch, she an ostrich Hopefully that's not a problem I make it look easy for real I told you this I told you that I make it look easy for real I know that it's easy to say But it ain't that easy for real I'm rolling up backwoods all day But the papers put me in my feels For real [Outro] Did you get all that shit? (Hit-Boy)