2MININHELL (Pt. 2) lyrics

[Intro: Juice WRLD & J. Knight]
Ayy bro, this sh*t finna be cold (Ahahah)
I'm finna be talkin' bout' sh*t
Ayy, ayy look bro, you got 2 minutes to do this sh*t
Alright bet
2 minutes, let's go
Watch this, just watch
Enviyon on the mix
(Yo, oof oof oof)

[Verse]
I f*ck that b*tch in my room
Talkin' that sh*t til' I come through with choppas
I'm killin' him and killin' you, huh
All of my n*ggas get cash, uh
Run up on me then you lose, uh
All these b*tches finna choose, yeah (Wait, wait)
All these b*tches finna choose me
She say she ain't tryna suck, b*tch (What)
Lil' b*tch you finna lose me (Uhh)
I get that money and I get that coochie
I swear I rock Louis and Gucci, huh (Gucci, Gucci)
Run up on me then my clip like a movie
I shoot at your sh*t like a groupie, uh
Hoes in my di*k and they swallow my kids
'Cause they know I'm the man and I'm with it, hey
Ballin' I feel like a champion
Come through with Gucci all over my fit, uh
Hoes in my di*k and they f*ck, uh
Told you I don't give a f*ck, uh
Run up on me you get f*cked up (f*cked up, f*cked up)
Lil' n*gga I don't give a f*ck, uh
All of my n*ggas get cash, what?
Stack that sh*t up that's a must, yeah
Run up on me then I bust, yeah
In my Glock 9 I'ma trust, yeah, yeah, yeah
f*ckin' on a b*tch cause I want to (Come here)
Kick that lil' b*tch like some kung-fu (Come here)
Cook all that crack like it's kung-pow (Wet)
Hit a motherf*cker with a combo, huh
Servin' that sh*t like cilantro, damn
I got your b*tch in my condo, uh
I got your b*tch in my condo, damn
f*ckin' that b*tch it ain't nothing (Come here)
You run up on me then with shotties I'm bussin', hey
I just been counting my money
I stack it and flip it I'm counting them hundreds, hey
I may pull up in a Hummer, I'm drummin' I'm f*ckin' my nina she c*min (Yeah, Yeah)
f*ckin' that nina she c*min', I'm balling like Westbrook of OKC Thunder, hey (Ahahah)
sh*t on that boy like a plunger, hey (What else)
Run up on me then I'm dumpin' (What else)
The police lookin' but your body in dumpster, yeah
n*ggas be talkin' that sh*t, but they never make money they just make assumptions, uh (Finish)
Yeah, hold up, wait, wait
Uh, b*tch on my di*k and she suckin'
I swear that she f*ckin' it really ain't nothing
Feelin' like Kobe, I'm getting these buckets
f*ckin' your girl when she leave I'm like f*ck it
Call her a Uber, I leave the house with a Ruger
I cannot f*ck with a loser
Your b*tch a chooser
I met that lil' b*tch at Hooters
Grabbing all over her Hooters (Yeah)
Don't f*ck with school
So they calling me Ferris Bueller
She ridin' me like a Mula
I may pull up in that Rari' you hearing that motor
Run up on me then it's over
I got that Glock on my hip, b*tch you know you got motives
I know these haters got motives
I feel like I am a terrorist, I am explosive
Glock on my hip, it's reloadin', hey
b*tch on my di*k and she f*ck me I met her on a first date
Suck me on the first date, uh
I run this sh*t like a Relay
Usain Bolt b*tch I came in first place
I blow your candles out, Glock on my hip and I caught his ass like ain't no birthday, uh
He talkin' sh*t til' I ran on his house and I killed his ass right in his birthplace, uh