BBC Radio 1Xtra Freestyle lyrics by Juice WRLD with meaning. BBC Radio 1Xtra Freestyle explained, official 2025 song lyrics | LyricsMode.com
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Juice WRLD – BBC Radio 1Xtra Freestyle lyrics
[Verse 1]
I never gave a fuck
I'll fuck Ir bitch, she give it all, uh
I got the- [?]
Run up on me then I hit them all, uh
Gigolo, gigolo, gigolo, uh
She got my dick, she gon' jiggle it, uh
I'm on the top, I'm on the top
Getting top from a bitch yelling, piglet, uh
Look at the way that i swag, uh
I got Gucci on my bag, uh
I ain't lookin' at the tags
Bad bitch, I hit it from the back, uh
I'm in Dior, spend a rack, uh
Maybe a rack on a rack, uh
Where I'm from, I say, "I'm from Chiraq", uh
Run up on me, them pistols'll clap, uh, yeah

[Verse 2]
That's my flow
Look at that girl, that's yo' ho'
Look at her style, she all gold
She wanna fuck, I said no
I ain't even wanna hit her
But I may go ahead and fuck her sister
Pull up on the scene, choppa' spinnin' like a twister
Goddamn, Goddamn, huh, yeah
That's how J kill it, uh
Run up on me, I kill it, uh
Fry him, he in a skillet, uh
All these-
I feel it

[Verse 3]
Back end, fuckin' a bitch from the back end
Like [?], get it crackin'
Guy know me, I ain't lackin'
Before the [?]
Win a race like first place
Run it back, so cold like relay
Scratch, scratch on a bitch, no DJ, uh
Boy, I swipe pre-paids, nah
I spray black cards, huh, ayy
With no delay, huh
My flow crazy, huh
Doped up like the 80's, huh
Big guns like the navy
Rock-a-by with the choppa' like babies, huh, yeah

[Verse 4]
Man, i could really talk some shit on this one
Pull the trues down, i could take a shit on this one
I feel like a baller, set a pick on this one
She wanna fan, she gon' take a pic on this one
Take a picture sitting on my dick, huh
Hit the filters up to make sure that it's fixed
Make it look big, huh
She gon' dance like an Irish Jig, huh, ayy
I'm not a rabbit but these tricks not for little kids, huh
I'm a master rapper, uh
'Matter fact, I'm probably with a torch and a bitch burning down tabernacles
I get the last laugh
I'm bombin' like Baghdad
If that bitch swallow my kids
Do that make me a bad dad?, uh
I'm an ass, lad
I'm an asshole with cash-flow, huh
Yo' girl fuckin', that bitch bashful
She got her hands in the air listenin' Beyonce
"Single ladies over here", that's what I say

[Verse 5]
Early to the party
Then again, I'm fashionably late off the molly
Run a train on yo' bitch
That's a stylish ass trolly
Out Dior, spend a couple pounds, nigga try me
Did I say, "a couple pounds"?
I meant a couple thousand
Money in my pocket, could build a platinum fountain
And if I pull up with security
That's my 40
Cause never in my life have i needed bouncers
I been so "fuck this" and so "fuck that'
My bitch talks up it, say, "Get the fuck back"
I feel like a crackhead hiding- woah
I feel like a crackhead hiding work how i spit crack
I got so much drive, if I stop it, you catchin' whiplash
I hit the strip club
Throw a couple bands on yo' bitch ass
I was getting cash ever since I was a youngin'
I feel like Drake and Future, ballin'
Jumpman, Jumpman, Jumpman
Pull up on me, get to bussin'
Choppa on me with combustion
My word is my weapon
So is my [?] and i got that from the West end
With a bad bitch, she bussin'
And he best friend more open than a book, uh
She fucked my cousin, I ain't even have to look, uh
Ain't talkin' boxing, I ain't gotta throw a hook
I freestyle crazy, kinda like an open book
That's probably cause when I was little I was reading books, uh

[Verse 6]
See, now I'm smarter
Got my arm in the rim
I'm ballin' like Vince Carter
Always ball like a starter
At yo' head like a barber
Bombin' hard, Pearl Harbor
Try me if you want it
You get smoked like a Backwood full of marijuana

[Outro]
Ain't no weed getting saved around me
That bitch fuck for free
That shit a guarantee
I'm in London, so I tell her she not my cup of tea
Talkin' dumb-


×

[Verse 1] I never gave a fuck I'll fuck Ir bitch, she give it all, uh I got the- [?] Run up on me then I hit them all, uh Gigolo, gigolo, gigolo, uh She got my dick, she gon' jiggle it, uh I'm on the top, I'm on the top Getting top from a bitch yelling, piglet, uh Look at the way that i swag, uh I got Gucci on my bag, uh I ain't lookin' at the tags Bad bitch, I hit it from the back, uh I'm in Dior, spend a rack, uh Maybe a rack on a rack, uh Where I'm from, I say, "I'm from Chiraq", uh Run up on me, them pistols'll clap, uh, yeah [Verse 2] That's my flow Look at that girl, that's yo' ho' Look at her style, she all gold She wanna fuck, I said no I ain't even wanna hit her But I may go ahead and fuck her sister Pull up on the scene, choppa' spinnin' like a twister Goddamn, Goddamn, huh, yeah That's how J kill it, uh Run up on me, I kill it, uh Fry him, he in a skillet, uh All these- I feel it [Verse 3] Back end, fuckin' a bitch from the back end Like [?], get it crackin' Guy know me, I ain't lackin' Before the [?] Win a race like first place Run it back, so cold like relay Scratch, scratch on a bitch, no DJ, uh Boy, I swipe pre-paids, nah I spray black cards, huh, ayy With no delay, huh My flow crazy, huh Doped up like the 80's, huh Big guns like the navy Rock-a-by with the choppa' like babies, huh, yeah [Verse 4] Man, i could really talk some shit on this one Pull the trues down, i could take a shit on this one I feel like a baller, set a pick on this one She wanna fan, she gon' take a pic on this one Take a picture sitting on my dick, huh Hit the filters up to make sure that it's fixed Make it look big, huh She gon' dance like an Irish Jig, huh, ayy I'm not a rabbit but these tricks not for little kids, huh I'm a master rapper, uh 'Matter fact, I'm probably with a torch and a bitch burning down tabernacles I get the last laugh I'm bombin' like Baghdad If that bitch swallow my kids Do that make me a bad dad?, uh I'm an ass, lad I'm an asshole with cash-flow, huh Yo' girl fuckin', that bitch bashful She got her hands in the air listenin' Beyonce "Single ladies over here", that's what I say [Verse 5] Early to the party Then again, I'm fashionably late off the molly Run a train on yo' bitch That's a stylish ass trolly Out Dior, spend a couple pounds, nigga try me Did I say, "a couple pounds"? I meant a couple thousand Money in my pocket, could build a platinum fountain And if I pull up with security That's my 40 Cause never in my life have i needed bouncers I been so "fuck this" and so "fuck that' My bitch talks up it, say, "Get the fuck back" I feel like a crackhead hiding- woah I feel like a crackhead hiding work how i spit crack I got so much drive, if I stop it, you catchin' whiplash I hit the strip club Throw a couple bands on yo' bitch ass I was getting cash ever since I was a youngin' I feel like Drake and Future, ballin' Jumpman, Jumpman, Jumpman Pull up on me, get to bussin' Choppa on me with combustion My word is my weapon So is my [?] and i got that from the West end With a bad bitch, she bussin' And he best friend more open than a book, uh She fucked my cousin, I ain't even have to look, uh Ain't talkin' boxing, I ain't gotta throw a hook I freestyle crazy, kinda like an open book That's probably cause when I was little I was reading books, uh [Verse 6] See, now I'm smarter Got my arm in the rim I'm ballin' like Vince Carter Always ball like a starter At yo' head like a barber Bombin' hard, Pearl Harbor Try me if you want it You get smoked like a Backwood full of marijuana [Outro] Ain't no weed getting saved around me That bitch fuck for free That shit a guarantee I'm in London, so I tell her she not my cup of tea Talkin' dumb- Explain Request ×



Lyrics taken from /lyrics/j/juice_wrld/bbc_radio_1xtra_freestyle.html

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