Doomsday

Album: All Is Yellow (2023)
Charted: 92 58
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  • Uh-huh, yeah-yeah
    Juice is eating a, uh, ice cream
    With, uh, lots of caramel
    I just had a, a ice cream sandwich, M&Ms
    On the Eminem beat, ironically
    Yeah-yeah, three years
    Uh, uh, okay

    I'm the type to come in the game and just launch pain
    With a bronze frame and a tattoo of my mom's name
    This industry has nothing to offer beyond fame
    Time to take these niggas to school, LeBron James
    Lesson one, I'm a bad teacher who gave the class seizures
    Smash divas, stash reefer in the lab freezer

    I found the reefer Cordae stashed in the back of the lab
    So I'm in class, smokin' gas, slappin' the class preacher
    Bring the house down on you hoes, Queen Latifah
    I'm too fast, gettin' this cash
    Get in the way, get your brain bashed
    Chopper gon' smash, hittin' your face
    I'ma tie up, just like a shoe, my flow laced

    Y'all niggas so fake, wash your face in my showcase
    Fresher than Colgate, make hoes wait, I hold weight

    Bottle of rose in the Rolls, drivin' with road rage
    For ten days, off Xans, just tryna get paid

    And since the sixth grade, I been great, no sensei
    My rent paid for ten days 'cause my pen's great

    I smoke ten J's with two hoes that go both ways
    Funny how two plus two equals foreplay
    Speakin' of foreplay, had this shit in the hallway with
    A nun on a Sunday, I guess I'm just too blessed (whoa, ayy)

    Me and my nigga Juice WRLD takin' over the universe
    You knew it first, got my mom Chanel with the newest purse
    Birkin bag, never hurt to ask, "What type of purse is that?"
    Something that's very fuckin' expensive, I deserve to brag
    I murder tracks

    This isn't mumble, it's murder rap
    Type of shit your grandma understand with her old ass
    Spend a half a million and go back and make some more cash
    The hair trigger Brazilian, you would get your whole hood waxed

    See, what you know about my life and my troubled past?
    Took the shuttle pass
    Hit the mall, I got double cash
    Copped the duffle bag
    Ten bands on my fuckin' ass, that's a subtle brag
    Hi Level, we be makin' moves, hit the huddle fast

    Break the huddle, get a sack, that's a fumble on the play
    Not in my house, he look like Mutombo in the face
    Leave him spinnin' like a funnel cloud with lightning and some thunder
    Like the Wizard of O-Z, the way we carry him away (uh)
    Carry him, then bury him, barbarian
    Beef with anybody, even if you vegetarian
    My flow on ebola, your flow just need Claritin
    Runnin' laps 'round these chaps, it's embarrassin' Writer/s: Andre Romell Young, Cole Bennett, Cordae Dunston, Jarad Higgins, Marshall B. III Mathers, Max Adam Lord, Melvin Bradford
    Publisher: BMG Rights Management, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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