Doomsday Lyrics
Uh-huh, yeah-yeah
Juice is eating, uh, ice cream
With, uh, lots of caramel
I just had an, an ice cream sandwich, M&Ms
On an Eminem beat, ironically
Yeah, yeah, three years
Uh, uh, okay, I’m the type to come in the game and just launch pain
With Lebron’s frame and a tattoo of my mom’s name
This industry has nothing to offer beyond fame
Time to take these n***** to school, Lebron James
Lesson one, I’m a bad teacher, who gave the class seizures?
Smash divas, stash reefer in the lab freezer
I found the reefer Cordae stashed in the back of the lab
So I’m in class smokin’ gas, slappin’ the class preacher
Bring the house down on you hoes, Queen Latifah
I’m too fast, gettin’ this cash, gettin’ away
Get your brain bashed, chopper gonna smash hit in your face
I’ma tie up just like a shoe, my flow lace
Y’all n***** so fake, why show face at my showcase?
Fresher than Colgate, make hoes wait, I hold weight
Bottle of Rosé in a Rolls drivin’ with road rage
For ten days off Xans just tryna get paid
And since the sixth grade, I’ve been great, no sensei
My rent paid for ten days ’cause my pen’s great
I smoked ten J’s with two hoes that go both ways
Funny how two plus two equals foreplay
Speaking of foreplay, had the shit in the hallway with
Another Sunday, I guess I’m just too blessed
Well, aye, me and n**** JuiceWrld taken over the universe
You knew it first, got my mom Chanel with the newest purse
Birkin bag, never hurt to ask, “What type of purse is that?”
Something that’s very fucking expensive, I deserve to brag, I murder tracks
This isn’t mumble, it’s murder rap
Type of shit ya grandma understand, with her old ass
Spend a half a million then go back and make some more cash
The head trick her, Brazilian, you will get your ho a new batch
Say, what you know about my life and my troubled past, took the shuttle past
Hit the mall like I double cash, copped a duffle bag
Ten bands on my fuckin’ ass, that’s a subtle brag
High level, we be makin’ moves, hit the huddle fast
Break the huddle, get a sack, that’s a fumble on the play
Not in my house, he look like Mutombo in the face
Leave him spinnin’ like a funnel cloud with lightning and some thunder
Like the Wizard of O-Z the way we carry him away, uh
Carry him then bury him, barbarian
Beef with anybody, even if ya vegetarian
My flow on Ebola, your flow just need Claritin
Runnin’ laps ’round these chaps, it’s embarassing