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letra de you wouldn't understand (original) - juice wrld

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[intro]
oh, oh, oh
9, oh, 9 this time (i’ma say this one time, one time only)
water (gezin, what you don’t understand)
got ski with me in this b-tch, you know? gang sh-t

[chorus]
what you don’t understand ’bout me is (yeah)
i never gave a f-ck about a godd-mn thing (what? what? yeah)
i wake up in the morning, do my godd-mn thing, i— (woah)
huh (uh)
what you don’t understand ’bout me is (uh-huh)
i never gave a f-ck about a godd-mn thing (uh-huh)
i wake up in the morning, do my godd-mn thing (woah)
i pop, i sip, i pour up lean, i—

[verse 1]
i’m lost in my abyss (uh-huh)
wake up, all i see is black, a solar eclipse (uh-huh)
all i know is guns and s-x, load up the clip (uh-huh)
told your b-tch to get on her knees and suck the d-ck right (freak ho, yeah, yeah)
i’ma live my life like it’s my last days
don’t believe in slow, i’m movin’ fast paced
ain’t no tom and jerry ’round here, ain’t no rat race
this is an outrage (this is an outrage)
i ain’t sleep in like six days (i ain’t sleep in like six days)
poppin’ percs, i can’t think straight (i can’t think straight)
i still run it like a relay, relay (run it, run it)
[chorus]
what you don’t understand ’bout me is
i never gave a f-ck about a godd-mn thing
i wake up in the morning, do my godd-mn thing
i pop, i sip, i pour up lean, i—

[verse 2]
i break the pill into minerals (what else?)
then i put it in my cereal, uh (what else?)
they look at me as a criminal (what else?)
hate on the kid ’cause this sh-t getting critical (ya dig?)
you got a lambo’ truck, it’s rented though (ya dig?)
look at my car, you can’t, it’s tinted, ho (ya dig?)
bad b-tch in the back seat, got ten of those (ya dig?)
hit her like a dance, gigolo-gigolo (ya dig?)
i got ’em puzzled just like a riddle (uh)
freestyle sh-t, i don’t ever spit writtens (uh)
beat up the p-ssy, i don’t f-ck with the kitten (shh)
thirty clip hangin’ out the black-ass smith & (shh)
catch me listenin’ to john lennon (ayy)
with your b-tch in versace linens (ayy, b-tch)
or maybe ozzy, or maybe billy idol, that’s one of my idols livin’ (on god)
i’m in the party, i don’t really need no posse, i’m boolin’ with 150 (on god)
that’s my shawty, finna get the boy name tatted all over her titties (on god)
remember huaraches and stealin’ food out of hibachi, wouldn’t catch me tippin’ (on god)
brand new shotty, twelve-gauge on that body, don’t let me catch you slippin’, yeah, yeah (grrah)
[chorus]
what you don’t understand ’bout me is
i never gave a f-ck about a godd-mn thing
i wake up in the morning, do my godd-mn thing
i pop, i sip, i pour up lean, i—

[outro]
i pour my lean, oh
yeah, maybe i should try water, huh
water, er
man, i’m on my way to f-ck your auntie, ha-ha
and ski gon’ double back and f-ck your auntie
if i’m high enough i’ll probably f-ck your granny
my money older than your granny
probably not, your granny old as f-ck
i’m finna buy my granny a car
i don’t know which one yet though
i think she like corvettes, sh-t
yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah
oh yeah and my dad, suck my f-ckin’ d-ck
uh, deadbeat
this dr. pepper good as f-ck, i need some straight drop though

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