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Joyner Lucas – Back in Blood (Remix) Lyrics

Back in Blood (Remix) Lyrics – Joyner Lucas

Ayy, ayy
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayy, Joyner, Joyner, Joyner
Yeah, look (Ayy)

I ain’t been on my freestyle shit in a minute but niggas don’t put no respect
So tell all these rappers that I’m takin’ over, just so you know what to expect
I wasn’t gon’ do it at first but fuck it, I must keep my foot on they neck
If I give you a warning, you better believe me, you know I stay good on my threats
Nigga, I spent my whole life in the studio, shit kinda feel like I’m doin’ a stretch
I wish I could spend more time with my son but I know that I’m doin’ the best
And I know that it’s worth it when he look at me and say, “Daddy, look, you are the best”
Need to find a new way to deal with my anger ’cause I never do good with stress
Niggas hate when I brag, I know, when I talk about cash, I know
When I talk about cars, I know, all the bitches I have, I know
They say, “J, I miss when you was broke
Way before all the fame and glory
Money changed you, it made you corny
The material things just bore me
You’re no different than all of these industry niggas, I thought you were special and awesome
Now you sellin’ your soul and just hopin’ on records with anyone, nigga, you lost it
I miss when you made music that I could relate to ’cause all of your new shit ain’t thoughtful
When you gon’ make some new music with Marshall?
When you gon’ pull some new shit out the arsenal?”
I’m back on my remix shit, don’t sue me, nigga, I’m too unruly
I might slide on a hoe like Toosie, bitch, I’m too dang groovy, ooh
Niggas try and cancel me like Boosie, all y’all hoes is goofy
But, yeah, you know my life’s a movie, I sold crack to Pookie
Look, she in love with the cocaine, I’m in love with the dope gang
Try to cook crack with a oven and propane
Try to make a dollar back when I ain’t have no name
But niggas told me that I had to stay in my own lane
I jumped in the water and started makin’ my own wave
I’m watchin’ the pool splash, they told me don’t move fast
And every nigga doin’ better than me, I blew past
Now niggas look at me, like, “How the fuck did he do that?”
I got one crib, I don’t live in it
The other one is big enough to probably put my other muhfuckin’ crib in it
But one crib, I made a clubhouse and stuffed all my step kids in it
And then I built me a trap house and let all the fiends take a hit in it
And I might buy a church too, just in case I wanna sin it
Put a hot tub in the front row, let all my hoes come swim in it
Yeah, I made so much bread, I bought a crib to take a shit in it
You talk about it, I’m livin’ it, you brag about it, I been did it
And I got your bitch in the whip ridin’ shotgun with the ceiling down
You let her down, I feel her up just ’cause the bitch feelin’ down
I don’t know if her ass real but I do know that it’s really round
I think that I’m tall enough for her to give me head without kneelin’ down
Fake niggas only really lie just because of prolly how real it sounds
Please shut the fuck up anytime I bring somebody real around
You versus me, nigga? That’s like a whale pushin’ a seal around
Tell me, how many dead rappers you think it takes to fill the ground?
And bitch, I’m in pimp mode, I only know what the pimps know
The man in the mirror is schizo, I pay a stripper in crypto
I pay a stripper in crypto, I do not care if you lit, though
I hit my plug from the flip phone, I’m sellin’ pebbles to Flinstones
Scam nightly, sellin’ whatever the strand might be, yeah
Get like me, all of my packages sealed tightly, yeah
I had a record deal, then I drop a label, nigga, come take a chance like me
You niggas cannot advance like me, you’ll give Atlantic back the advance like me
I got the upper hand, mm, and I got the other hand icy
My diamonds movin’ like Chris Brown, you know I love when they dance hyphy
Ayy, ayy, only nigga that told his girlfriends ’bout my other girlfriends in front of my side lil’ bitch and wifey
Give a fuck about security in the club, we gon’ ride
Give a fuck if it’s a quarantine or not, we still outside
The last nigga tried to play me talkin’ crazy, then he died
Like them cheap-ass hoes [?], catch you slippin’, we gon’ slide
Ooh, ooh, catch you slippin’, we gon’ slide
Put that rubber on that grip, then we gon’ cut your ass outside
Send ’em goonies on that mission, it go trip and you gon’ hide
When you get hit that blicky you gon’ wish that you done died

Ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, Joyner
Ayy, ayy

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