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Correct 67 Lyrics
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Artists: J
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Juice WRLD
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Correct 67
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[Intro] Bitch it's on Hit-Boy I make it look easy in these on I make it look easy in [?] [?] I got all this green like I was farming She call me the army leader, Sargent [?] I got all this green like I was what [Verse] I got all this green like I was farming I'm the army leader I'm the Sargent I need yellow bones on that Mars shit I'm not from this planet I'm a martian I ain't getting drunk but I got bars, yeah Servin' rounds like you at a bar, yeah My gun sing I feel like Barbra Streisand Cowboy this revolver in my left hand Married to this money Holy matrimony He think that he real Your boyfriend a phony Turn his face to pieces choppa make him pepperoni I'm the type to pull up then I flex my fucking Rollie AP on my wrist but it get deeper I go back to school just to shit and then fuck on the bad teachers Give a fuck about you prolly getting head behind the god damn bleachers You don't fuck with me that's cool 'cause I don't fuck with me either I'm hot just caught a fever she scream "Oh baby" just like Justin Bieber I pull up on the scene bring the house down like I'm Queen Latifah You could try me if you want you can get smoke like Wiz no Khalifa And I don't even smoke reefer, nigga I don't even smoke reefer Yeah, but keep them Percs coming If I go broke back to the trap just keep that work coming I'm praying every day but I don't go to church for nothing You know that the pastor be fronting, he think he be talkin' 'bout some- That nigga probably fucking your mommy If I'm being honest, shit I ain't just talking Nigga I don't talk it I walk it And I don't do shit without office I told you my nigga I'm awfully awesome I probably got Powers like Austin Pull up to your park man I leave a bomb like the marathon running in Boston Look what I did, baby, see it She hold up my kid, Home Alone I'm in your crib, but this ain't two people chasing a white kid Glizzy on me I get busy I get jiggy I get jiggy on it I can't hear, what you saying, why you go Iggy on me I can't hear, what you saying, why you go Iggy on me Pockets, bands, choppa from Afghanistan 50 Cent said it best Many men wishing death And I don't got time for it, I just got Tom Ford I don't even got change for these hoes you can have a dime boy I feel like Kobe in the fourth I ain't passing no dimes boy I'm 'bout mine with the gun it sing like it's Cece Winans boy Listen to how I spaz on they ass, leave a nigga like maxi pad Its me and Max Lord in the studio counting up all these racks I used to fuck with the Xans, now it's Percs in my hand I used to fuck with the work now I got no work in my hand Nigga you know where we stand Boy your bitch is a stan If I fall in love then I'm gon' turn into Stan If she leave me I'm driving off of that bridge Keep that I'ma do one more take [Instrumental Break]
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