Click Clat (Click Click) lyrics

[Intro: Juice WRLD]
Worry 'bout a ho, n*gga
Oh, yeah (Hey!)

[Verse 1: Juice WRLD & Lil Bibby]
I ain't ever worried 'bout a ho, n*gga
Run up, then we shoot this sh*t like Cole Bennett
Got a Goyard bag full of rolls in it
Yeah, we 'bout it, 'bout it, like No Limit (Look, ayy, say)

[Chorus: Lil Bibby & Juice WRLD]
I'ma hit the stain, then split it, yeah
f*ck a .30, yeah we totin' big sh*t, yeah
Talk behind my back, yeah, that's that b*tch sh*t, yeah
I'ma let it squeeze 'til it click-click, yeah
Yeah, I'ma let it squeeze 'til it click-click
Leave a n*gga cryin' like a chick flick (Ayy)
Choppa burn 'em like incense
Been the realest n*gga since an infant

[Verse 2: Lil Bibby & Ski Mask The Slump God]
Yeah, my homie shot that n*gga, but he innocent, yeah (Innocent)
Gucci's on my feet, yeah they limited, yeah (Look at it)
Keep a ski mask on, you can't sentence him, yeah, yeah (Yup)
These n*ggas act like b*tches, man, they feminine, yeah (Yup)
I ain't going sweet if it was ten of them, yeah (Huh)
I up that .223 and shoot at him and him (I up that .223)
Shawty thick and she blonde, just like Eminem (Shawty thick, b*tch)
Ass shots, just like Kanye and Kim and 'em (Look, ayy)
I said your n*ggas ain't got it in 'em (Uh-huh)
Rockin' Balenciaga denim (Uh-huh)
Kill whoever rockin' with 'em
Told my n*gga stop killing, stop drilling
f*ck that b*tch, I'm not tripping
Play with me, your top missin' (Yup, yup)
Found 'em by the dock, fishin', caught 'em in it (Yup-yup-yup, yup)
[Verse 3: Ski Mask The Slump God]
I wanna rock right now (Yup-yup-yup)
And I'm on the block right now (Yup-yup-yup)
Bibby got the Glock right now (Got)
You can get shot right now, ow (Shot)
Now you on the ground right now
Ah-ah, how you sound right now
Put your soul in the lost and the found right now (Yuh)
Why you look a little lost in the sauce right now? (Yuh, yuh, water)
Right now, suck my di*k and pronounce a noun (Right now)
Going down, Ice Tray the gang in China Town (Wow)
On a date, finger f*ck my b*tch at In-N-Out (Ayy-ayy, ayy-ayy, out)
And she let it happen (Water!) just because I got clout (Ayy)
Cinderella glass slipper how I kick sh*t (Kick, ayy-ayy)
Keep one eye upon you n*ggas like I'm Slick Rick (Rick)
She gon' meditate upon my di*k like gypsy
I've been in that b*tch, hustling like Nipsey (Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, Nipsey)

[Verse 4: Juice WRLD & Ski Mask The Slump God]
I'm the type to shoot a n*gga then hit a kickflip (Ayy-ayy, kick)
You the type to kiss a b*tch that always suck di*k
You think you funny? You ain't funny, you on that Chris Tuck sh*t
Shoot you in your heart, b*tch, you get no love, b*tch, ayy
Gucci, Louis, Prada, you get money, nada, okay
Mr. I-Could-f*ck-Your-b*tch, but you can't f*ck my b*tch, no way
She don't gotta cross the street for me to know that that b*tch goin' both ways
Told me that her man was on bullsh*t with me, olé
[Chorus: Lil Bibby & Juice WRLD]
I'ma hit the stain, then split it, yeah
f*ck a .30, yeah we totin' big sh*t, yeah
Talk behind my back, yeah, that's that b*tch sh*t, yeah
I'ma let it squeeze 'til it click-click, yeah
Yeah, I'ma let it squeeze 'til it click-click
Leave a n*gga cryin' like a chick flick
Choppa burn 'em like incense
Been the realest n*gga since an inf—