Imagine a world where luxury and wild parties are the norm. Juicy J and Travis Scott dive deep into this extravagant lifestyle, flaunting their wealth, carefree attitudes, and indulgence in vices. They talk about quickly earning money ("jump to a check"), living lavishly with acres of land, and engaging in secretive affairs with neighbors. The repetitive "fuck" emphasizes their rebellious and unfiltered approach to life. There's also a sense of being stuck or lost amidst the chaos, relying on substances to cope. It's a raw peek into their high-flying yet tumultuous world. #LuxuryLife #Rebellion
Neighbor
Lyrics
Shut the fuck up!
Yeah mane
We still gettin' this paper
Buddah Bless this beat
Jump to a check, aw, hit it in cash, hit it n' dash (yeah, yeah)
Flash, she a dancer (flash, she a dancer)
Stack it and fold em' (stack it and fold!)
Forty-two acres (oh yeah)
Fuck on my neighbor (uh)
Told her don't say shit (say, say, say)
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
Fuck, fuck, fuck
Dawg I'm stuck (yeah)
Feel no drugs (yeah)
That's my love in a cup (yeah)
Keep it short (yeah, yeah)
Got the dawgs in the cut (yeah, yeah)
Really off balance, heard they got talent (uh)
Really ecstatic, moonwalkin' backwards (uh)
Plane it got wood floors on the cabinet
Hit the flight attendant, diamond status
Keep a actress on the addicts daily
Looking like Boogie Nights in the 80's, aye
Jump to a check, aw, hit it in cash (yeah ho!)
Hit it n' dash (yeah ho!)
Flash, she a dancer (yeah ho!)
Stack it and fold em' (yeah ho!)
Forty-two acres (yeah ho! Uh huh)
Fuck on my neighbor (yeah ho!)
Told her don't say shit (yeah ho!)
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck (yeah ho!)
Fuck, fuck, fuck
Dawg I'm stuck (yeah)
Feel no drugs (yeah)
That's my love in a cup (yeah)
Keep it short (yeah, yeah)
Got the dawgs in the cut (yeah, yeah)
I go live like Kodak (like Kodak)
Niggas keep dyin', fuck Xanax (fuck that)
I kill shit, what's next? (What's next?)
Nick can't stop my flex (can't stop that)
Stripper put it on her chest (right there)
She even want no check (no check)
Got Carti' on me like Offset (Offset)
Ain't even gotta rap, nigga, I'm set
Get to a check (yeah, yeah)
I ain't even cash (ain't even cash)
Fresh to death lookin' like I stepped up out a casket (out a casket)
I'm gon take my shot, you gon' pass it (you gon' pass)
My bitch classy and she look just like Cassie
But she nasty
I'm fucked up, stuck
Still fill up a cup
Woke up like, "What the fuck is up?"
Let's turn up (yeah)
Fuck a buzz, yeah, I need drugs, let's turn up, yeah
Keep a torch, yeah
I'm a dog you a mutt, yeah
Jump to a check, aw, hit it in cash
Hit it n' dash (yeah, yeah)
Flash, she a dancer (woo)
Stack it and fold em' (uh, uh)
Forty-two acres (uh, okay)
Fuck on my neighbor (yeah, okay)
Told her don't say shit (damn, uh)
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
Dawg I'm stuck (yeah)
Feel no drugs (yeah)
That's my love in a cup (yeah)
Keep it short (yeah)
Got the dawgs in the cut (yeah)
Writer(s): Buddah Bless, Jacques Webster, Jordan Houston, Tyon Douglas Senior
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, AMG 4 EVER, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
What is the Meaning of Neighbor
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