Juice (Remix) lyrics

[Intro: $CRIM, Producer Tag & DJ Tag]
This a $crim beat (It's $crim the DJ, motherf*cker!)
$crim, Fat Fat, G*59
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice
Work, work! (D-D-D-DJ $crim!)

[Hook: $CRIM]
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Hoo!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Work!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Woop!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Aah!)

[Verse 1: $CRIM]
Dirty money tucked up in my shoe (Shoe!)
Funny thing is that it came from you (You!)
Tryna to ball homie that's the truth (Truth!)
Tryna to ball, my pops said "Cool" (Woop!)
f*cked your girl, and your sister too (Dat right!)
I know what you need to do (Uh-huh!)
Kill yourself homie, jump off a roof (Buh-bah!)
I'm lit, you mad that they ain't notice you (Aah!)
G*59, boy we got that juice (Rep it!)
I'm makin' moves flexin' with my crew (Crew!)
They poppin' mollies, hear 'em screamin' "Woop!" (Woop! Woop!)
Start the shootin' homie, boom boom boom boom boom (Rrah!)
Cross 'em up, like I'm on the [?]
[?] to the money, all you hear is "Ooh!" (Work!)
I see these haters tryna to stop me
Hurt they feelings 'cause I'm grindin' (Woop!)
And they ain't notice you (Aah!)
[Hook: $CRIM & Fat Fat]
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Hoo!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Work!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Hey, what up Scrim? Woop!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Fat! Aah!)

[Verse 2: Fat Fat]
Got that work tucked up in my socks (Yoo!)
But you know I can't fit the Glock (Ha!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Juice!)
b*tch I'm Tony, boy I got that blow
It's Fat and $crim, we got that flow (Huh?)
To shut them haters up and f*ck they hoes (Yeah!)
I hit that dope, I be like "Woah!" (Woah!)
Cheese posted like a crow (My dawg!)
Five racks for a show, a feature that's five-double-o (Five hunnid!)
I get a few scripts every month, but keep that on the low (Sssh!)
Sell it all for a hundred percent profit, homie, I'm a pro (I'm a pro!)
All I really know is money and the G-Code
Don't rat, and that's for anybody we know
Do that, I have some killers at your peephole (They sleepin' there!)
Knock you off, then get your hoe to give me a peep show (RIght now!)
No, she give me deep throat for real though (Yeah!)
I f*cks with G*59 'cause they be stackin' up for real though (Huh? Fat Fat!)

[Hook: $CRIM & Christian Radke]
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Hoo!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Yeah! Work!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Woop!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (And it's your boy, Christian Radke, yeah) (Aah!)
[Verse 3: Christian Radke]
Pop-pop-pop that pus*y, for me baby (For me baby)
We smokin' blunts but I'm sponsored by rolling papers (Down to roll)
Me and Dirty in the coupe, but we got b*tches too (We got b*tches too)
Then we bring them to the stu' and f*ck 'em in the booth (Oh yes, we do)
[?] on the way, I know he got it (I know he got it)
He prolly got like ten blunts in his pocket (I know he do)
We always smokin', who gon' stop us
Now homie get to bubblin', New Orleans, b*tch we poppin'
Y'all better recognize, b*tch I'm stuntin' (b*tch I'm stuntin')
I ain't do all this singin' for nothin' (Oh no, I didn't)
Y'all like the police [?]
And if she want it I'ma give it to her, lil homie it's nothing
All these b*tches trippin' off all this money I'm gettin' (I'm gettin')
I spit it off the dome, I swear none of it's written (I swear)
All my homies buckin', West Bank b*tch we running (Yeah!)
Chillin' with Lil $crim, so you know I ain't worried about nothing (Woo! Woo! West Bank)
Yuh

[Hook: $CRIM]
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Hoo!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Work!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Woop!)
b*tch so cute, boy I got that juice (Aah!)

[Verse 4: Chetta]
Uh, off my cue, my shooters getting loose (Rrah!)
Got that work up in the pus*y, hope she don't say "Achoo!" (Work!)
D-different flavors which one would you choose (Ha!)
Red, orange, green, purple, my cup thick like glue (Aite!)
Now-now we don't sip with you f*cking haters
My lean soakin' in Now and Laters
I'm ducking now, probably sleeping later (Aah!)
Grams of kush in my rolling papers
Fields of kush, I'm growing acres
Flexing jugs, I'm a heavy drinker
Pour up some more, well, like mine's pinker
Homie your sh*t don't inspire me
I'm off the syrup like a maple leaf
These dudes actin', they make believe (Work!)
Talkin' sh*t they never seen
I pull up stuntin' then create the scene (Stuntin'!)
Stop the stuntin', clear the scene, get back to frontin', I'll get you what you need, like... (What?)
Yeah, this that f*ckin' real though (Yeah!)
I'm on a medical high, pharmaceutic my flow (Sssh!)
Lethal weapon my dro, Mel Gibson your hoe (Buh-bah!)
Crack a seal, pour a four, then take this sh*t to your throat