Lit Lyrics – Jugg Harden
Singer: Jugg Harden
Title: Lit
If you need drugs for that p#ss#, it ain’t genuine
Ain’t a real b#tch if you out here f#ckin’ this chicken up
b#tch, we on the road makin’ money, put your feelings up
Five hundred thousand miles in, get your rentals up
The hoes know we lit as f#ck
I threw ten what Snoop had, f#ck the chicken up
n#gg# talkin’ down to the hoes ’cause they think we f#ck
If you need drugs for that p#ss#, it ain’t genuine
Ain’t a real b#tch if you out here f#ckin’ this chicken up
b#tch, we on the road makin’ money, put your feelings up
Five hundred thousand miles in, get your rentals up
Lil’ bro threw ten up on thе buffs, he f#cked his vision up
She said thе first thing she doin’ is goin’ to get a Birkin
I told her stack it first, don’t spend it all on one purchase
The feds said they third eye on us because we workin’
Usually be around all the ballers, can’t get practice
Solid-ass n#gg#, I make a promise, I won’t break it
Used to see my uncle sleepin’ in my granny bas#ment
I ain’t none of these n#gg#s gettin’ treated like I’m basic
Fall in love with a thot before you catch me at the station
Hellcat supercharged, you won’t catch me in no basic
I own cribs ’round this b#tch, you won’t catch me in no bay
Six guns, so we ain’t run, I’ma catch you if I chase you
I don’t give a f#ck ’bout hoes, so you special if I hate you
Latest pair of Yeezys seven hundred, sound off a Wealthy tee
Eighty people sittin’ outside the dopehouse waitin’ on me
Caught a n#gg# walkin’ to the store and left tape in the street
Shootin’ three guns at one time, it sound like we makin’ a beat
Poured a whole eight in one pop and left the jug open
You can tell I drunk a lot of lean, I got a pudge on me
Ain’t gotta get my hands dirty, I can put a whole dub on you
Got into it with my b#tch daddy, whipped out a Judge on him
I’m in Flint with a gun that can travel to Detroit
Get a brick, bust it down, and all my grams be off three points
Bullets in my K the same size as a weed joint
Four in the morning, phone beating hard, what I’ma sleep for?
If you need drugs for that p#ss#, it ain’t genuine
Ain’t a real b#tch if you out here f#ckin’ this chicken up
b#tch, we on the road makin’ money, put your feelings up
Five hundred thousand miles in, get your rentals up
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Lyrics Jugg Harden – Lit
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