Ever wondered what happens when heartbreak, hedonism, and a hint of hellfire collide? This track is a rollercoaster ride through the highs and lows of love and loyalty. Trippie Redd and Juice WRLD trade verses about the intoxicating thrill of passion, juxtaposed with the inevitable fallout of toxic relationships. The lyrics paint a vivid picture of living on the edge, where love feels like a dangerous game and betrayal cuts deeper than any knife. Amidst the chaos, there's an unrelenting pursuit of pleasure—whether it's in fleeting romances or wild escapades with friends. It's a raw, unapologetic anthem that captures the essence of youthful rebellion and emotional turmoil. Buckle up; this one's not for the faint-hearted!
Blastoff
Lyrics
Internet Money, bitch
(Hahahaha, Nick, you're stupid)
Baby, come and have a blast with me
Do everything I say like your majesty
Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy
Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me
Fuck with me, baby, come get this bag with me
Been alone for a minute, that shit been draggin' me
Cravin' your love, it's heart-attackin' me
Tryna get in that pussy, baby, that mac and cheese
I cannot show these bitches no sympathy
Or these niggas, they simps and they hella bitch to me
I was just fortunate, got the remedy
Fuck that bitch and then dip, I got them chips to receive, yeah
Baby, come and have a blast with me
Do everything I say like your majesty
Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy
Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me (uh)
You picked that knife up and you stabbin' me
Wish it was a paper cut, but it's a gash, I bleed out
In a way, you keep harassin' me
It's a shame this the way that it has to be, oh
Uh, yeah, time is of the essence
You know damn well you bring hell, I should call a reverend
Devil horns on a angel, still haven't learned my lesson, uh
We're a mess and our life's a wreck (hey)
Toxic, toxic, toxic
The most beautiful things grow old and start rottin'
I should've turned away when I found out you were demonic
Let's be honest, you're the devil's daughter
Say hey to your father, uh, he owe me twenty dollars
We gon' run through hell with like twenty-hundred choppers
We gon' give 'em hell and I put that on my mama
Me and Trippie Redd boolin' back in the Bahamas
Baby, come and have a blast with me
Do everything I say like your majesty
Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy
Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me
Fuck with me, baby, come get this bag with me
Been alone for a minute, that shit been draggin' me
Cravin' your love, it's heart-attackin' me
Tryna get in that pussy, baby, that mac and cheese
Gang, gang, gang
Probably fuckin' your mama
Three K on my wrist like André
Servin' like entrée
Huh, you dig? You dig? You dig?
Writer(s): Danny Lee Jr. Snodgrass, Henry Nichols, Jarad A. Higgins, Kim II Candilora, Michael Lamar II White, Nicholas Mira, William Repko
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Hipgnosis Songs Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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