JUGGERNAUT (feat. Lil Uzi Vert & Pharrell Williams)

Wait, wait, wait, wait Somethin' like (Uh-oh) I just cut some fresh lemons, where's the sugar? Lemon in my 'ade, lemon in my ears, call 'em boogers Rather six feet 'fore I'm ever seen with you niggas (Hold up) Yeah What it is? It's that nigga T, skin look colored in (Woo) Ridin' in double-double R, that's that Cullinan (Yeah) Pullin' in that four hundred gram, I just bought a disc (Yeah) Switzerland, Lake Geneva where I spend my summer in (True story) Golf le Fleur, that's Gianno shoe, what I'm runnin' in Earlobe look like headlights on a new van (Gangsta Grillz) I'm so motherfuckin' dead-ass, I need some Timberlands (Woo) I battle any man, Uzi Vert, don't think they understand (Yeah, yeah) Uh (Skrrt, cool), double C on my feet Double G on my freak (Ooh), Louis V by my brick She wan' kick it with me, she better eat it then leave (Leave, woah) She try save 'bout the place but keep eatin' my meat We can't see none of 'em, bro, she keep eatin' my seeds (Woo) Got a E and a B on the back of the CT I'm done with the 12, got a V16 (Uh) Say the money comin' in, yeah, that's true The more money I get, I don't wan' s*x you Can't think about the last time that I text you It's probably one Sidekicks out them belt loops Sign my John Hancock on a bitch every time I check you Just like a brand new Lamb', I wreck you, uh So if this mind is yours (Woo, woo, woo) Ride to the dinner tapin' Outta time and imagine her in the exit Last year more than what Google say my net is I got chatter with the chef in the tinted exit (Like woah) Yeah, uh, uh, uh, woah It's the double P, I rock double C Man, I run them beats like you run in cleats Man, come to me, you want somethin' to see This internally flawed, that's a double Vs What troubles me is you couple me With these subtle fleas tryna double league Hornet trapped in the hive of a motherfuckin' bumblebee They just got the closest picture of the fuckin' sun surface, that was us Got the LaFerrari, park that bitch just for one purpose, catchin' dust My Secret Service carry mops, you call 'em street sweepers, back you up Tat' you up then add you up, then give you a cover like Adwoa If the shit's fake, I don't respect it, it's clickbait And that's distaste like a shit shake What a difference your wrist make when it's Richard-made Hungry eyes tend to fixate like a empty stomach for a fish plate Shit-faced, get this straight, this is truck wheels that grip tape Ride to the dinner tapin' Outta time and imagine her in the exit (Why you even talkin' to us?) Last year more than what Google say my net is (Goddamn) I got chatter with the chef in the tinted exit Uh, uh, uh --- JUGGERNAUT (feat. Lil Uzi Vert & Pharrell Williams) - Tyler, The Creator