Juice WRLD - Uh Huh lyrics
Juice WRLD [Jarad Anthony Higgins] Chicago, Illinois, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Juice WRLD - Uh Huh lyrics]
808 Mafia uh huh, yeah
The reason why I'm out on my grind
I'm leavin' everyone in my gun
Uh oh, uh oh, you're not the one
Bitch you're not the one
You're not the one
Never leave the house without my guns
Never leave the house without my guns
I ain't lookin' for trouble but
I'm not the one not the one, uh huh
Do I got cash? Uh huh, I check a bag, uh huh
(yeah)
Designer my jeans, uh huh, they don't sag
Uh huh
Niggas mad, uh huh, got my mag, uh huh
Try to hate on me, I leave you in the past
Uh huh
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm runnin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm stuntin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"
Tell her that I run this shit like Usain Bolt
(Uh, huh)
I'm Peyton Manning to these fuck niggas
Ballin' like the Colts
I'm sick of ballin', matter of fact
I may just go become a coach
I go first class, on they ass
I ain't ridin' coach
Never goin' broke again
I spent a thousand on a coat just to say
"I did it" did it 'cause it's dope
She gon' do the dope, then do the most
Know she not no real one, that bitch a hoax
Thank God
I ain't have to touch the baking soda
But I know niggas in the trap
Usin' the Motorolas
In that bitch's throat, feel like a Ricola
She do straight coke, I sip Coca-Cola
Do I got cash? Uh huh, I check a bag, uh huh
(yeah)
Designer my jeans, uh huh, they don't sag
Uh huh
Niggas mad, uh huh, got my mag, uh huh
Try to hate on me, I leave you in the past
Uh huh
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm runnin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm stuntin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"
I like if she love it, love to flex in public
Thinkin' nothin' of it
May shoot up the function
Somethin' out of nothing, 23 in my Glock
Damn jumpman, jumpman, jumpman
Got the party jumpin'
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I hit Maury up 'cause all
These niggas is my sons
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I ain't come here to fight niggas
Go and grab the gun
Call me microwave because I heat up
I bought my stripes and I earn them bitches
Adidas
I got a Spanish bitch, I fuck on her amigas
Run up, I’ll let that 40 off
That 'lil bitch got a fever, yeah
Do I got cash? Uh huh, I check a bag, uh huh
(yeah)
Designer my jeans, uh huh, they don't sag
Uh huh
Niggas mad, uh huh, got my mag, uh huh
Try to hate on me, I leave you in the past
Uh huh
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm runnin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm stuntin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"
The reason why I'm out on my grind
I'm leavin' everyone in my gun
Uh oh, uh oh, you're not the one
Bitch you're not the one
You're not the one
Never leave the house without my guns
Never leave the house without my guns
I ain't lookin' for trouble but
I'm not the one not the one, uh huh
Do I got cash? Uh huh, I check a bag, uh huh
(yeah)
Designer my jeans, uh huh, they don't sag
Uh huh
Niggas mad, uh huh, got my mag, uh huh
Try to hate on me, I leave you in the past
Uh huh
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm runnin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm stuntin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"
Tell her that I run this shit like Usain Bolt
(Uh, huh)
I'm Peyton Manning to these fuck niggas
Ballin' like the Colts
I'm sick of ballin', matter of fact
I may just go become a coach
I go first class, on they ass
I ain't ridin' coach
Never goin' broke again
I spent a thousand on a coat just to say
"I did it" did it 'cause it's dope
She gon' do the dope, then do the most
Know she not no real one, that bitch a hoax
Thank God
I ain't have to touch the baking soda
But I know niggas in the trap
Usin' the Motorolas
In that bitch's throat, feel like a Ricola
She do straight coke, I sip Coca-Cola
Do I got cash? Uh huh, I check a bag, uh huh
(yeah)
Designer my jeans, uh huh, they don't sag
Uh huh
Niggas mad, uh huh, got my mag, uh huh
Try to hate on me, I leave you in the past
Uh huh
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm runnin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm stuntin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"
I like if she love it, love to flex in public
Thinkin' nothin' of it
May shoot up the function
Somethin' out of nothing, 23 in my Glock
Damn jumpman, jumpman, jumpman
Got the party jumpin'
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I hit Maury up 'cause all
These niggas is my sons
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
I ain't come here to fight niggas
Go and grab the gun
Call me microwave because I heat up
I bought my stripes and I earn them bitches
Adidas
I got a Spanish bitch, I fuck on her amigas
Run up, I’ll let that 40 off
That 'lil bitch got a fever, yeah
Do I got cash? Uh huh, I check a bag, uh huh
(yeah)
Designer my jeans, uh huh, they don't sag
Uh huh
Niggas mad, uh huh, got my mag, uh huh
Try to hate on me, I leave you in the past
Uh huh
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm runnin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
She asked if I'm stuntin'
I told that bitch, "Uh huh"