Arctic Tundra (feat. Juice WRLD)

Bad - run the world, let me make it clear
When I leave Juice WRLD, I'm back to pink hair
Haha, Max Lord, preach it, haha
Gezin
I - the blunt up, hahaha
Yeah, I'm on marijuana (marijuana)
My lean plug say he'll be here in a second (pull up)
I'm getting high, I'm feelin' restless (I'm sad)
Feel like I'm finna die (R.I.P.)

- the blunt up, then - your momma (uh-huh)
My VVS cold like an arctic tundra
A .40 on me, woah, you don't want no problems
And you best proceed with some caution, yeah
This song for the girl with the blonde hair
Suck me up good, give me Becky, like, yeah
She ride it, like, yeah, in a Versace chair
Her boyfriend heated like a grill, no Hibachi, yeah

This Young Money ENT, - that negative Nancy
I'm still balling, I'm still balling, NBA on TNT
Came through dripping, D&G, always ducking TMZ
Flow still need that EMT, tell her get at me and see
I'm da toppa toppa
- is a Khan like Chaka
I get it before they cop it
Always been that type of shopper
And I never tell a lie, I just put one in the sky
I just popped me a transformer, getting money 'til we die

'Til we die we gon' be fly, made a milli' in Shanghai
I don't need job applications, for that pressure I apply
That is why they gotta lie, that is just how they get by
But my flow still gon' be wavy and your flow still gon' be dry
I done - the world up, in ten short years
Had teachers like Weezy F. and been all ears
Lose studs that's VVS, then get more pairs
They been praying on my downfall, still need more prayers, I'ma

- the bag up and - your daddy
I'ma stay up like I popped 3 addys
Girl with the blonde hair, they call me Barbie
Let's get faded and have a party, yeah
If you got that bomb, put your hands in the air
Bad - run the world, let me make it clear
When I leave Juice WRLD, I'm back to pink hair
'Cause we somewhere - a blunt up
And - on your momma

- the blunt up, then - your momma (uh-huh)
My VVS cold like an arctic tundra
A .40 on me, woah, you don't want no problems
And you best proceed with some caution, yeah
This song's for the girl with the blonde hair
Suck me up good, give me Becky, like, yeah
She ride it, like, yeah, in a Versace chair
Her boyfriend heated like a grill, no hibachi, yeah

I'm high as hell
Mind everywhere, still mind over matter
Pockets getting fatter, elevate like a ladder
.30 and a .40 make you percolate like a dancer
I'm colder than the North Pole, Blitzen, and Prancer
She say she from the strip pole, she a dirty dancer
Her ex-- too low, she don't got no standards
He ain't right, me? You don't live a better life
Ran it up like Jerry Rice, I don't gotta say it twice
This is real life, your - is Fisher-Price
Now you read minds
You was thinkin' 'bout how I'm that -, right?

- the blunt up, then - your momma (uh-huh)
My VVS cold like an arctic tundra
A .40 on me, woah, you don't want no problems
And you best proceed with some caution, yeah
This song for the girl with the blonde hair
Suck me up good, give me Becky, like, yeah
She ride it, like, yeah, in a Versace chair
Her boyfriend heated like a grill, no hibachi, yeah

Said he want the pretty girl with the blonde hair
Fatty on the Max like some Nike Air
- his last girl 'cause I am her nightmare
Looking this good shouldn't even be fair
Said he want the pretty girl with the blonde hair
Fatty on the Max like some Nike Air
- his last girl 'cause I am her nightmare
Looking this good shouldn't even be—

- the girls that just hate on baddies
Shout the bad - that act all bratty
Nothing but all this designer on me
All of my - throwing up gang signs for me (for me)