Letra de Biscotti In The Air* - Juice WRLD

Haha

This nigga crazy (Surf)

Bae, say something on the mic

Bitch, I'm high as fuck, yeah, I'm high as fuck, yeah (Yessir)

Let me add Ally to the second verse, she in there? (Hey)

Bitch

Smoking Cookie Crisp (Yeah)

Stupid bitch (Yeah, Ha-haha)

(8-8-8-808 Mafia)

(All that shit)

Fuck yo' Glock, I need a gun with bigger tits (All that shit)

Fuck your Glock, I need a gun with bigger tits (Oh yeah, uh-huh)

Pop that 30, not that 10, I need a bigger itch, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah, uh-huh)

I got a job for you hoes, finding a bigger bitch (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah, uh-huh)

Tryna move that cocaine by the zip, hide it by your tits, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah, uh-huh)

Uh, young rich niggas, we rare (Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh)

All the hoes stop and stare (Uh-huh)

Louis V underwear (Uh-huh)

VVS solar flare (Uh-huh)

Eskimo polar bear (Uh-huh)

Designer I wear (Uh-huh)

Bad vibes over there (Uh-huh)

In my recliner chair, putting biscotti in the air (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)

Whole lotta gang shit (Yeah), Kel-Tec go bang (Gang, gang, huh)

Bust at they brains (Brrt)

Bust-down my wrist with Baguettes, that's the name (Yeah)

Lace up the Gucci's, and run to the bank (Uh)

Double R truck, pull out (Uh-huh)

Kel-Tec tucked in the back seat, pull out (Brrt, brrt)

Fuck nigga run like a track meet, pull out (Brrt, brrt, brrt)

Pop out, aim at him, knocked down, then I put the top down

Turn up the music, yeah, rock out (Yeah)

I need fellatio, with my cock out (Yeah)

I don't trust you hoes, still got my Glock out (Uh)

I used to stay two doors down, from a crack house (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

Two years later, I was working in a crack house (Uh-huh)

Niggas run in, guns twerking in a crack house (Brrt, brrt)

I was smoking extendos, and white owls (Yeah)

Truey jeans and Timbos, yeah

My shirt collar Polo, yeah (Uh-huh), from TJ Maxx for the low, yeah (Uh-huh)

Came a long way from those days (Yeah), if I could go back there I would go there (Yeah, yeah, uh-huh)

'Cause I had all my bro's there (Uh-huh)

(Nevermind, I don't wanna go there)

Fuck your Glock, I need a gun with bigger tits (Oh yeah, uh-huh)

Pop that 30, not that 10, I need a bigger itch, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah, uh-huh)

I got a job for you hoes, finding a bigger bitch (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah, uh-huh)

Tryna move that cocaine by the zip, hide it by your tits, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah, uh-huh)

Uh, young rich niggas, we rare (Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh)

All the hoes stop and stare (Uh-huh)

Louis V underwear (Uh-huh)

VVS solar flare (Uh-huh)

Eskimo polar bear (Uh-huh)

Designer I wear (Uh-huh)

Bad vibes over there (Uh-huh)

In my recliner chair, putting biscotti in the air (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)

I'm surfin' on the waves, numbin' all the pain, novocaine with the Percs (Uh)

I'm out my body, beam me up, Scotty, I ain't comin' back to earth (Nuh-uh)

Without that molly, best believe he ain't gon' kill nobody (Ha-ha)

My niggas don't need no money, if I tell 'em they'll kill somebody (Brrt-brrt-brrt)

Uh, yeah, nigga, what's good?

Four of my niggas ridin' through your hood, uh, yeah (Brrt)

Wish you would (Yeah), who do you think you are, Young Suge? Uh, yeah (The fuck?)

Gettin' in good, leave 'em laying on the front porch like his house haunted (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Roll up 'Woods, pour up mud, let's get stuck (Bitch)

Where'd all the real ones go? We the only real ones, uh (That's for real, uh)

We in yo' place, get in the way, we gon' kill some (That's for real)

I miss my dogs, enemies fall, make him feel us (Us)

Won't stop 'til we see blood, make 'em feel the real us (Brrt, brrt, brrt)

Pain in they veins, bullets tear, leave a stain (Yeah)

From the pain in our brains when they took what I gained (Uh, uh, uh, that's fact)

Now the days ain't the same (Uh, uh)

Make me wanna scream out they names (Uh, fuck)

No reply, so we gettin' high, plottin' on the other side (Uh, fuck, fuck, baow, baow)

Fuck your Glock, I need a gun with bigger tits (Oh yeah, uh-huh)

Pop that 30, not that 10, I need a bigger itch, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah, uh-huh)

I got a job for you hoes, finding a bigger bitch (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah, uh-huh)

Tryna move that cocaine by the zip, hide it by your tits, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah, uh-huh)

Uh, young rich niggas, we rare (Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-huh, uh)

All the hoes stop and stare (Uh-huh, uh)

Louis V underwear (Uh-huh, uh)

VVS solar flare (Uh-huh, uh)

Eskimo polar bear (Uh-huh, yeah, uh)

Designer I wear (Uh-huh, yeah, uh)

Bad vibes over there (Uh-huh, yeah, uh)

In my recliner chair, putting biscotti in the air (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)

(8-8-8-808 Mafia)

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