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Juicy J - Stay Trippy Album Lyrics



Juicy J - Stay Trippy Lyrics






Stop It

Make money, no vacation

Pay cash, don't make payments

Getting high like I'm eighteen

But I've been rich since the late eighty's

Backstage, naked ladies

Poppin' pills and swallowing babies

Bad bitches ain't come to play

She gon' give me head before I go on stage

New car, a couple, a hundred

Ain't nothin' I call it play money

Bugatti, Ferrari, the Benz, the Bentley

Juicy stay stuntin'

Street niggas, we packin them 2's

Play with it, make action news

Put some money on your head, you worth a stack or two

Real nigga I'm 100, I sip lean and I chase money

Niggas out here savin' hoes, niggas need to be savin' money

Made mine, can't take it from me

Hit the club, I take your woman

Take her home, get some head, wake up breakfast in bed

Yeah nigga that's grits and eggs

Rich bitch don't forget the bread

Up and down that interstate

I move weight, that's Jenny Craig

I'm a f*ck me a model, I'm a f*ck me a model

You only get to live one time, so I'm a f*ck me a model



I make money all day then I ball with the profits

Niggas hatin' on me, I tell 'em hatin' niggas stop it

Go f*ck with a bitch, get that Becky then I'm gone

Catch me on that loud pack, blowin' on this strong



I make money all day then I ball with the profits

Niggas hatin' on me, I tell 'em hatin' niggas stop it

Go f*ck with a bitch, get that Becky then I'm gone

Catch me on that loud pack, blowin' on this strong



Bitch you ain't no killa

And real niggas don't talk

Start shit in this club

It's going down in the parking lot

Niggas get killed and then we ain't shedding no tears

Niggas can't keep they mouth closed, judge give you them years

Yo homie f*ckin' yo bitch

And she ain't suckin' yo cock

Them niggas ain't holding you down

And you call them niggas yo dogs

They really out here hatin', so stay strapped up like a tank

They got guns they got in movies

Except they not shootin' blanks

Scarface in broad daylight

They don't care who lookin'

Young nigga got something to prove, nigga think he pushin'

Playin' 'round in my hood and they'll smoke you like a Swisha

We don't play 'bout money and we don't play with them pistols



I make money all day then I ball with the profits

Niggas hatin' on me, I tell 'em hatin' niggas stop it

Go f*ck with a bitch, get that Becky then I'm gone

Catch me on that loud pack, blowin' on this strong



I make money all day then I ball with the profits

Niggas hatin' on me, I tell 'em hatin' niggas stop it

Go f*ck with a bitch, get that Becky then I'm gone

Catch me on that loud pack, blowin' on this strong
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, MICHAEL WILLIAMS, PIERRE RAMON SLAUGHTER
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Smokin Rollin

[ Featuring Pimp C ]

[Intro: Juicy J]
You niggas ain't high as me
But I got a way you can do it

[Hook: Juicy J]
Im smokin' I'm rollin' [x16]

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
Codeine in my system, mane this life outstanding
Feel like I'm on another planet, I don't plan on landing
My Audemar is iced out, ice cream soft served
Prescription pills, prescription weed, drink prescription cough syrup
My swag belong on the short bus, I'm smokin' out in my tour bus
I'm chasing after that long money and I don't take no short cuts
Where the hell is we headed, I don't know but I'm high
I roll another zip of that fire, scream Taylor Gang or die
A zip and a double cup, bitch I'm pourin' up
Introduce ya to the fast life, but I'm slow as f*ck
Bad bitch she take a sip, after that she open up
Livin' like a rockstar, I've never been sober bruh

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Pimp C]
Ugh
Smashing out, lashing out, keeping these bitches cashing out
Licking they ass, passing out
Don't give a f*ck if they mad or not
What you gon' do when they come for you
I'mma bust back like a hog would do
Macking game, on the lose
Sip the foam, cup the deuce
High pursuit for a prostitute
Hoes wanna choose, what's stopping you
That nigga there cock blocking you
I'mma show you what a rock baller do
I might rip the road like Pendergrass
Pimp C, ain't Teddy P
I just jump in the Benz and smash the gas
She wanna give me some ass, but the dick ain't free
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ABEL TESFAYE, CHAD L. BUTLER, ADRIEN GOUGH, JORDAN HOUSTON, CAMERON THOMAS, HENRY RUSSELL WALTER
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






No Heart No Love

[ Featuring Project Pat ]

[Intro]
(Mafia, Mafia,) [x2]

[Juicy J]
Once again, you do wrong, wrong will follow. (Always, Always)
That's real shit, real spit nigga, you know the business.

[Hook]
The trigger ain't got no heart, the nigga behind it ain't got no love, (Mafia)
The trigger ain't got no heart, the nigga behind it ain't got no love, (Mafia)
The trigger ain't got no heart, the nigga behind it ain't got no love, (Mafia)
The trigger ain't got no heart, the nigga behind it ain't got no love. (Mafia)

What ya sayin nigga?, What ya sayin nigga?,
What ya sayin nigga, nawh, what ya sayin nigga?,
The trigger ain't got no heart, the nigga behind it ain't got no love, (Mafia)
The trigger ain't got no heart, the nigga behind it ain't got no love. (Mafia)

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
Yea, I tell you one time, don't play with my bread, (nope)
Nigga, you do, they gon' find yo ass dead. (yup)
Body in trunk, hands tied to yo legs, (yup)
Tape on yo mouth, a hole in yo head. (bluu!)

Fronted some dope, now the nigga in debt, (ho!)
How you gon' pay that? Nigga don't sweat, (mmhmm)
Goons on deck - you know what's next, (what)
Send 'em to yo house, now it's time to collect, (get it)

Now you in a box, nigga - cause and effect, (bitch!)
Hollow points and buckshots, all in yo neck. (bitch!!)
Told ya 'bout playin' with a nigga like that, (don't play!)
Now yo fam gon' visit you, payin' they respects. (you gone!)

Tell ya one time, don't play with my money,
Sold all my dope, now you run around stuntin', (mmh)
All in the mall, spendin' money on ya woman, (trick!)
Nigga must think he don't owe me nothin', (trick!)

Nigga must think I forgot about mine,
He pressed 'ignore' when I called his line, (hell nawh)
I'mma play it cool like everythin' fine,
Catch him comin' home, lay him down with the 9.

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Juicy J]
Yo, bang bang, shoot 'em up, Memphis niggas don't give a f*ck. (never)
Run up on ya in broad day, pull them guns out, shoot ya up.

Loose ya life over light green, (uh huh)
Kill a nigga over soft white (uh huh)
You ain't from here, don't come here (nope)
And if you do, better walk light. (light!)

Our here is a nightmare, (mare)
Homicides, not Freddy Krueger (krueger)
Niggas ain't got shit to lose, (lose)
Shoot it out like a Western movie.

The trigger ain't got no heart,
The nigga behind it ain't got no love. (no love!)
These niggas ain't wearin' no mask
And these niggas ain't wearin' no glove (no glove!)

These niggas don't, fight no mo',
F*ck takin' the high road.
Lil' homie 'bout 16,
Bust a gun with his eyes closed.

F*ck with all that gangsta talk,
Know you ain't bout that life!
Pull that heater on yo ass,
Bet you come up off that ice. (ho!)

[Hook]

(North Memphis, North Memphis, North Memphis, North Memphis, North Memphis, North Memphis, North Memphis, North Memphis...)

[Verse 3: Project Pat]
Fifty shots clear this bitch out like a tornado,
Two choppas who identical - call 'em Cain and Abel.
Very fatal, dippin' in stash like a soup ladle,
Rolled up on him, shot him in his head - busted tomato.

You niggas get high on this shit,
Like the ho, ya nuts, (okay, okay, okay)
Shotgun blast to ya stomach, bitch, on ya guts. (for real)

You say you gang affiliated, extra clips tough, (ch ch)
And when the bullets get to poppin', they don't give no f*cks (f*cks)
Money rules everything, and we got the cash,
Pay yo homies one bag, (one!) to blow up yo ass (pow pow)

Kidnap ya from ya residence, no mask no lie
F.B.I. found ya body in Project dumpster, BFI (ooooh, ooooh)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, KEVIN WOODS, PATRICK HOUSTON, TYREE LAMAR PITTMAN
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.






So Much Money

Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
A nigga like me don't give a f*ck about the price,
Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
I gotta P. Diddy swag, and a Hugh Hefner life
Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
A nigga like me don't give a f*ck about the price,
Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
I gotta P. Diddy swag, and a Hugh Hefner life

Man I get so much money, love a bunch of snow bunnies,
Take em to the crib, get em in the pool and then f*ck em,
Take them bitches gamblin', and do some shit that Hammer did,
And go and blow a hundred racks, [?]
Foreign cars, push-buttons, anything to keep me stuntin',
Foreign chicks are freaky sumthin, pull it out she start suckin,
Bitch I got the best weed, Cali keep me puffin',
And I do alot of drugs, just like David Ruffin,

[Chorus:]
Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
A nigga like me don't give a f*ck about the price,
Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
I gotta P. Diddy swag, and a Hugh Hefner life.
Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
A nigga like me don't give a f*ck about the price,
Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
I gotta P. Diddy swag, and a Hugh Hefner life.

Man I get so much money, I ball like the NBA,
But I don't run down the court, I be on a paper chase,
Heard they got a brand new Lamb', I'm gon' flip dat shit today,
I'm gon' find miss Halle Berry, Flip dat bitch like Eric Benet,
15 racks, 20 stacks, in the strip I got to waste, money
Cause I can bitch, just for all you niggas hatin',
I love dem stripper hoes, pretty smiles all races,
And I would love to nut in any one of dem hoes faces,

[Chorus:]
Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
A nigga like me don't give a f*ck about the price,
Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
I gotta P. Diddy swag, and a Hugh Hefner life, bitch.
Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
A nigga like me don't give a f*ck about the price,
Man I get so much money, man I get so much money,
I gotta P. Diddy swag, and a Hugh Hefner life, bitch.
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, LEXUS LEWIS, MICHAEL FOSTER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






Bounce It

[ Featuring Wale, Trey Songz ]

[Intro: Juicy J]
Yeah... yeah, we gon' stay trippy for life, mane
Yeah... I'm 'bout to take yo' girl (bounce it)
Check it...

[Chorus: Trey Songz (Juicy J)]
Bounce it (bounce it), bounce it (bounce it)
I'm about to throw a couple thousand (bounce it)
Bounce it (bounce it), bounce it (bounce it)
I'm about to throw a couple thousand
(Ones, fives, tens, twenties)
(Work your way up to them big face hundreds - just bounce it)
Bounce it (bounce it), bounce it (bounce it)
I'm about to throw a couple thousand

[Juicy J]
Yessir...
I love the way she slow dance, she make me throw more bands
Grabbin' ass with both hands, she in love with the dope man
She wanna be my main chick, I was thinking different (different)
Clap that ass, light our blunt, baby, let's get ig'nant (ig'nant)
She's strips with the Gs, breaks cash like Li, she got double Ds, and ain't shit free
Came with my goons but I'm leaving with a diva with an ass like Serena and a face like Aaliyah
Redbone in some red bottoms, she ain't finished college, she a head doctor
Bouncing ass while I'm getting high as propellers on a helicopter
Let's do it again, me, you and your friend
We don't even need a room, give me head up in my Benz
Where my double cup, time to pour it up
Got a bitch so bad you can't afford to f*ck
Bounce it

[Chorus]

[Wale]
Wale though, le'go...
Hands is on her you know what, 'cause bandz a make her you know what
And I can make a girl break fast, my pants be on that too much lust
And I'm 'bout whatever baby, take a photo, I'm looking good
And these breezies are so beneath you, understand you're misunderstood
Premium leather goods, we pay whatever for it
All of these pussy niggas, only under influenced
Throw a block up then I back out, like that, roll a pack out, took a light hit, might nap
Got a thick bitch with a trip stick I'ma smack, and a bucket but we nothing but pack
Bald-headed scallywag, real niggas salute me
Catch me at that Memphis game, seats saved by Rudy
Or Mark Gasol, or Selby do, that's plenty dough
That's Juicy J, Folarin, got it then get me those
Ralph!

[Chorus]

[Juicy J]
Turn up...
Juicy be trippy and paid up like Diddy, toss up that cash and she show me her kitty
Got some white girl and a white girl, doin' a tiny line off of her titty
Ain't tryna f*ck, I just found a replacement, feelin' so global, I think I need agent
Ratchet on deck and they know I'm gon' stunt, I'm tryna get head while smoking a blunt
Take her to my hotel, beat the pussy up, I don't know her name, but I wanna f*ck
Along came Molly, then came Doobie, then codeine in a styrofoam cup
See me in the club, bands pop, they poppin', do it real good, might take you shoppin'
All these racks can't fit in my pocket, keep that stack, hundred K in the stocking
Then it's back to my room, she come out her dress
Slob on my knob, think you know the rest
I don't buy these broads Nike, but I keep these girls in check
Working for that money, bitch, you gon' have to break a sweat
Bounce it

[Chorus]

[Trey Songz]
...I'm about to throw a couple thousand
...I'm about to throw a couple thousand
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: OLUBOWALE VICTOR AKINTIMEHIN, TREMAINE NEVERSON, LUKASZ GOTTWALD, JACOB KASHER HINDLIN, HENRY RUSSELL WALTER, ETHAN LOWERY, JORDAN HOUSTON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






Wax

[Bridge:]
Let's get high, let's get stoned
Take a hit of this and you won't make it home
Take another hit now I'm in my zone
I can't remember shit these drugs got me gone

[Hook:]
I come up with a hit and put it on wax
My homie high as shit, I put him on wax
It's goin' down, like candle wax
Homie, I get on that wax and I ain't coming back
Wax, wax, put him on wax
Wax, wax, put him on wax
Homie, I get on that wax and I ain't coming back
Wax, wax, put him on wax

[Verse 1:]
Wasted like a white boy, you know I got the best grass
Chillin' with my snow bunny, kick back, blowin' hash
Two, three hits put you on your ass
Weed look like it got a diaper rash
Loud pack in a plastic bag, smoke out in a gas mask
Hippie bitch made a, apple bong, good weed, alcohol
We party like we college kids, got more money than a powerball
Bitch I live that fast life every day in ten speed
Look up in the sky, is that a plane, no it's just me

[Hook]

[Verse 2:]
Hey bitch what that ass like, blow me like a bag pipe
Trippy shit get high as f*ck, I be on them bag pipes
Plus I got my cash right, shining on them like a flash light
In the projects with a ratchet bitch, her house look like a crash sight
Shawty pussy so wet, waterfall, TLC
That wax got me turnt up, that shit just the THC
(Fire) Gettin' paid (fire) Gettin' blazed
In the new Bentley Truck and I'm whippin' it like a runaway slave

[Hook]

[Bridge x2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, MIKE FOSTER, MARYLIN MCLEOD, PAM SAWYER
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management






Gun Plus A Mask

[ Featuring Yelawolf ]

[Intro]
You niggas gon have to start
Watchin your mothaf*ckin back
Real shit

[Hook]
A gun plus a mask, you do the math
All my goons know, that equals cash [x3]
A gun plus a mask, that equals cash
So if your f*cked up down to your last
A gun and a mask gon getchu cash
A gun plus a mask, you do the math
All my goons know, that equals cash

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
What you know about it nigga this that goon shit
AK sweep a nigga house without a broomstick
So nigga come up of that bad, all them pistols blast
With the choppa at yo house lyin in the grass
They a rob a nigga blind if they doin bad
Duct tape around the handle they don't use a mag
So tell em where its at, don't tell em no more lies
Line yo family up against the wall, and open fire
All you trap niggas are victims, jackers gon catch you slippin
Feeling yourself, flashin this stuntin, niggas are come end up missin
You trappers gon drop off that cash, you see em out here they hurtin
They got you back its a robbery, nigga now don't make it a murder
Too late to talk when the shit hit the fan
Got choppas on deck, war drums than a band
Gun a nigga down, leave em where he stands
Highway to hell, nigga better start praying

[Hook]
A gun plus a mask, you do the math
All my goons know, that equals cash [x3]
A gun plus a mask, that equals cash
So if your f*cked up down to your last
A gun and a mask gon getchu cash
A gun plus a mask, you do the math
All my goons know, that equals cash

[Bridge:]
Walk up to your house, knock on your door, and blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off, bitch I got a sawed-off
Bitch I got a sawed-off
Walk up to your house, knock on your door, and blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off, bitch I got a sawed-off
Bitch I got a sawed-off

[Verse 2: Yelawolf]
They telling me Yela don't swing
Look buddy don't worry bout me
If you in my lane, you would end up in a train that's ditch with the snakes in a leeches
Gotta take a mothaf*cka out I get wanted cuz I never did shit but me,
Its about time that I said it, hey would I regret it we'll see (f*ck that)
Yelawolf I am a loose cannon, ask David Banner how deep
I was born and raised in this shit, momma I got manners bout me
But I'll get dirty if I gotta get dirty and dead a mothaf*ckin piranha up in a Alabama creek
I'm hotter than you in the middle of the summer
Sitting in a sauna under the sun in a Alabama street, shit
Rockin rollin' I got noted, I'm going up yeah I'm going
But with my dreams and my people I got that poetry loaded
My soul is sold, and they sold it, sweet [?] they grow it
I leave that potato smoking, look bitch don't think that I'm jokin
Click, POW!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, MICHAEL ATHA, MIKE FOSTER
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management






Smoke A Nigga

[ Featuring Wiz Khalifa ]

[Intro: Juicy J]
Yo, too damn high.

[Hook x2: Juicy J]
This OG Kush, what I'm smokin' nigga.
Put the fire to a hater, and smoke a nigga.
I pull them whips out, and I'm smokin' nigga.
You think you hot as me, hold on, you must be smokin' nigga.

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
Cali weed in a dutch, purple lean in my cup
Smokin' while I'm drivin', nigga we be f*cked up.
Hit the weed then pass out, homie you an amateur
This bitch is bad as f*ck so I'm a grab that camera bruh.
Peelin' bank rolls, Condo full of bad bitches.
Lot of pills, lot of weed, and a lot of liquor.
Sprinkle hash on a blunt bitch I'm rich and double cup
Ain't no time bein' wasted time to roll another up
Trippy niggas getting high, man that's what we all do.
She know I'm with them Taylors, wanna f*ck the whole crew.
Smokin' out the phantom Rolls, tryna stay low key
If what's in the air then you know it's me.

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]
Smokin' on this potent, feelin' like I'm floatin'.
Lookin' like I'm Chinese cause my eyes are barely open.
Weed in my king size and right beside me got that potion.
Rollin' up that ganja all my diamonds like the ocean.
All looked like I cloned em, all look like they glowin'
All look like they snowin', I should build a snowman.
Pulled out my garage to show my car cause I'm a showman
Can't get in my closet cause I got all of this clothin'
Smokin' out Ill show you how to roll one up and blow it down
I'm on the stage you in the crowd I'm in the air you on the ground
You on that uh, I'm on that loud.
I'm on that island Veuve Clicquot money pilin'.

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Juicy J]
I got a bad bitch on a hash pipe, and that ass right
I don't know Lil shawty name, I just call her last night
Ballin' hard coppin' foreign cars like they half price
Blowin' loud, Juicy J be higher than the gas price.
Mary Jane, bitch I get so high call me Eddy Kane.
Freaky bitch, and she drippin' wet, it's a hurricane.
Dope boy, I got it on my own, I come from [?]
Old school, nigga get naked like [?]
Codeine all in my cup, I got your queen all on my nuts.
I spray she drink it up, that's right she freaky as f*ck.
Trippy nigga fresh to death, like the after life
Juicy J I feel outta space, cause I'm gettin' higher than a satellite.

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CAMERON THOMAZ, JORDAN HOUSTON, MARQUEL MIDDLEBROOKS, MICHAEL WILLIAMS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






Show Out

[ Featuring Big Sean, Young Jeezy ]

[Chorus: Young Jeezy]
Everytime I go out, you know I gotta show out
Everytime I go out, you know I bring the dough out
Everytime they go out, you know they bring they ho out
Everytime I go out, you know I bring that flow out
Everytime I go out, you know I gotta show out
Everytime I go out, you know I gotta show out
Everytime I go out, you know I gotta show out
Everytime I go out, you know I gotta show out

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
Trippy niggaz and a few hoes
One night, two shows
That's two mansions and a team expansion
Thumbin' through a check, got me sweatin and pantin'
When you getting money chicks start coming around
Niggaz start hatin' who's holdin' you down
All this ice I'm just livin the life
Bad bitches want me, give me head like lice
Hit club LIV in a rush
Pockets so swole I think they finna bust
Ace in my hand and a 45 tuck
Money coming down codeine pourin up
Smokin on some dope, always on a float
20 years in niggaz callin me the G.O.A.T
Money adding up you haters going broke
Still in the game while you niggaz ridin old
See me showin out they muggin I dont give a f*ck
How I start my morning off a zip and a double cup
Hating ass niggaz, y'all behind me
Ball so hard they want to fine me
Juicy J, Taylor Gang
I been rich since the 90's

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Big Sean]
All these ratchets hoes say I ain't shit
Well, at least I ain't broke ho
Stackin paper like old folks
And you still stayin with your old folks
She a fan, that's fantastic, poppin zany's, that's zantastic
Gettin rich, band-tastic, white girls like Anne Hatha-
Way going, way out, they wait for my bandwagon
She let me bang and I ain't got a bandana
Ooh (Freaky) that's just how I move
Fast girls, fast money, no more fast food
Came up first class, my passport gettin tattooed (boi)
Young ass playa doing everything that I have to
So everytime I go out...

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Young Jeezy]
I got some bad bitches with me
Say they like Rihanna love Whitney
She say how many bottles do you want, I told her 50
She say anything, yeah bitch a kidney
Everytime I go out, you know I bring that dough out
Finesse is on a milli, it lookin like a blowout
100 bitches with me, look like I left the ho house
100 racks with me, look like I left the blow house
Now we poppin bottles, they came with the sparkles
Got my niggaz with me, they came with them yoppers
Got a few ratchets, even a couple models
20 car caravan, I bet they gon follow, ugh

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JAY JENKINS, SEAN ANDERSON, JUSTIN GARNER, JORDAN HOUSTON, MICHAEL LEN WILLIAMS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






The Woods

[ Featuring Justin Timberlake ]

I wanna dedicate this song to that special chick
(Did you hear that?)
Trippy chick...

[Hook:]
When we go walking in the woods
Nobody can hear us
And you could be as freaky as you should
I love you at your weirdest
Unleash the animal, hear my mating call
I want you to be fearless
When we go walking in the woods
A natural experience
Go ahead...

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
Hey baby let's fly away to a private place
So far away we get high and feel that we out of space
She keep looking back at it, we keep grinding like jack rabbits
All she want is this pipe, I turn her into a crack addict
Ain't nothing that a nigga can't afford
Louie, Gucci or Chanel, I'll buy the store
You and me on a new beach, sippin' champagne
Making love on a island resort
No need to pack luggage, hope on the jet like "f*ck it"
I got everything you want and you need, I guarantee you'll love it
She the baddest woman you ever seen, she belong with King Magazine
You might seen her on a movie screen, she's so dope now I'm her fiend
Just thinking about her I don't need a buzz
We party hard, we don't need a club
Bring your passport we're making love in Persia on a Persian rug

[Hook:]
When we go walking in the woods
Nobody can hear us
And you could be as freaky as you should
I love you at your weirdest
Unleash the animal, hear my mating call
I want you to be fearless
When we go walking in the woods
A natural experience
Go ahead...

[Verse 2: Juicy J]
I got a Rolls-Royce baby that's yours
I got a private jet baby that's yours
I'm balling baby, what's mine is yours
You can have all that and even more
I got a black card, go on a shopping spree
I buy you so much ice, girl you can ski
Your old man tryna lock you down
Come with Juicy J and you'll be free
She got her own, she independent
We at the lake, she skinny dipping
In the hotel we wake the neighbors
They knocking like Jehovah's Witness
Girl we can kick every chop karate
Out on my yaught we go island shopping
Back to my suit, ten grand a night
Just me and you, it's a private party
She's sent from heaven, mayne
She needs wings on her
I might have to put a ring on her
Damn she so bad, damn she so thick
I wonder how she fit jeans on it
For me she unleash her inner animal when we meet
And she a lady off in the streets
But a beast when we're in the sheets

[Hook:]
When we go walking in the woods
Nobody can hear us
And you could be as freaky as you should
I love you at your weirdest
Unleash the animal, hear my mating call
I want you to be fearless
When we go walking in the woods
A natural experience
Go ahead...
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: TIMOTHY MOSLEY, JEROME HARMON, JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE, JORDAN HOUSTON, CHRI GODBEY
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






Money A Do It

[Verse 1:]
I will gun creep you through your hood with that gun on my waist
Tell me what's the procedure with the gun on your face
We did a couple of talkin we just out here gettin money
Out here f*cking these hoes my young ins servin them junkies
I got partnas that smoke, I got bitches that sniff
I got killas and goons, and they all with the shit
Send them bust in your home, if you play with my chips
They gon come in shoot them choppas bullet shoot through them bricks
Comin shoot up your house, comin spray up your wealth
I need money my nigga, say them gangsters for your bitch
Catch you out on the town, then you [?] all up
I don't play in my walkin, but I been up my buck, hol up

[Hook: x2]
I see ya got some haters, yeah a money do it
Shawty do some strands for some change, yeah a money do it
If I want a nigga dead, yeah a money do it
If I want it I'm a get it, I got money to do it

[Verse 2:]
Take your bitch home then I'm all up in that pussy
Old school pimpin she ain't f*ckin with no rookie
Juicy J be cooler than a phantom on a ho
Watch me take her out the club, and drop some bands on that ho
Buy that bitch a bag, buy that bitch some beans
I keep her caked up nigga that's a happy me
Full of codeine in my styrofoam cup
I can turn a church girl into a stone cold slut
Bad red bone, puttin on the show
No I'm not gon wife her up cause she errbody ho
F*ckin with them broke niggas, so what does she think
Need to get your mind right, bitch, and come get these Franklins

[Hook]

[Verse 3:]
F*ck niggas don't want to go to war
Got a AK and a snub nose
Shoot em up, he talkin shit
With a ski mask on, and a pumpin shit
Kick in the door, and leave em dead
With a aim so precise, two shots to the head
One for the money, two for the Feds
Lord forgive, but I mean what I seen
All in your house, and I'm looking for a dope
Cause I got to get paid or else no hope
I'm Juicy J throw with some [?] to the boat
Best believe I'm a pimp, nigga ain't goin broke
Ride in the car with a body in the trunk
Three niggas deep, and we rollin up a blunt
Straight to Mississippi, sweatin up a pilly
Crazy is hell, you niggas gotta kill me
You niggas don't, wanna die,
Chest out, and acting hard
Calico, and a 45
Hollow tips, that pull apart
Keep it G, my G
Or you could meet your makers, body count stackin
I was in Jamaica, with Alabaisse
I be flyin by bitin down I'm flying high
Hatin ass niggas gotta die
If they mad then I'm a let them try
I could kick a door, or I could snatch a nigga
My niggas ridin with me, and they yellin let's crack a nigga
North Memphis full strapped up with a 2
Police pulled me over I'm a play it cool
I ain't going to jail (no sir)
I shoot and I run, that's how a nigga post bail
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, MIKE FOSTER
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management






Talkin Bout

[ Featuring Chris Brown, Wiz Khalifa ]

[Intro: Juicy J]
Swagger under
Trippy niggas... let's get ratchet

[Hook x2: Wiz Khalifa (Juicy J)]
I'm loadin up and I'm ridin out, they talkin shit but they hidin out
Real niggas know what I'm talkin bout...
(I'm loadin up and I'm ridin out, they talkin shit but they hidin out)
(Real niggas know what I'm talkin bout...)

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
(Trippy, trippy, trippy, turn up)
Rack after rack, I got the sack, geeked up of beans, pack after pack (yeah ho)
Stay with the nina' 2 cups and a zip, Juicy don't fight I just empty them clips (yeah ho)
Blowing like cash, high off the gas, pay 20 stacks and they run up and blast (yeah ho)
Next time you're see him this face on the shirt, next time car he ride in, stretch limo hearse
See why you niggas mad nigga, that to me you so cash nigga
Stuffed in a Louie bag nigga, Juicy J be that nigga
Big bag of that stank killer, codeine in my drink killer
Mostly niggas be lyin sayin they is but ain't killers
Nigga wanna play with me, I'm a break him off
Give my youngins, they'll do it, I'm a bring em out (get em)
They gon' get on your ass then they flyin takin off (get em)
Nigga we gon take a life before we take a loss [gunshot]

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]
My diamonds sing like Ray J homie, every day's a payday
Rollin up that KK, now it's going down like mayday
All my niggas be chilling, stacking money to the ceiling
Used to smoking out the parking lot, now we owning a building oh
Used to tell niggas I was gonna here but they ain't really understand
Now they see me in that brand new Rari and start to think I'm the man
Now my jeans cost a grand, now my shows fill the stands
Now they see that I'm ballin cause of how they bring in them bands, ooh
Now when niggas be tourin, now my money be foreign
All my niggas be scorin, section very important
I'm cakin up, you fakin up, I'm rollin weed when I'm wakin up
Instead of talkin shit and try to hate on us just grab a joint and come bake with us
(F*ck nigga, hahahaha, uhh)

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Chris Brown]
(Look, okay, okay)
Front page, I'm on the news: nigga call me a dropout
Real nigga, 100, never needing no copout (nah)
Diamonds on my chain just pop off, you already know what I'm bout
Got bad bitches from overseas but I need a big ass from the south
Look at us, we made it, bottles up in the air now
25 racks a night, give a f*ck bout sweating your hair out
Getting trippy man with some frisky things; I am the shit and you niggas anus
'Cause if I mention ya'll I'm a make you famous you still ain't nothing, I'm stainless
We famous, anything you want right now, baby girl just name it
And I'm a get real deep in the pussy; the number one nigga, ain't no need for replacement
Getting in my spaceship, I'm high as a bitch, fly as a bitch
Okay Juicy and Wiz, every day we do this shit

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ERIC DAN, BRENT REYNOLDS, JONATHAN KING, JORDAN HOUSTON, CAMERON JIBRIL THOMAZ, CHRIS BROWN, JEREMY KOLOUSEK, ZACHARY VAUGHAN
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






All I Blow Is Loud

That's trippy shit right here bruh

[Hook:]
Don't pass me no regular, I'm a turn it down
All I blow is loud, All I blow is loud
Don't pass me no regular, I'm a turn it down
All I blow is loud, All I blow is loud
I'm a turn it down, and be turnt up
I'm a turn it down, and be turnt up
I'm a turn it down, and be turnt up
I'm burnin' loud til my lungs burnt up

[Verse 1:]
Smokin' gas in a rental
She givin' me mental
Countin faces (countin faces)
While she poppin molly like mentos
I got money forreal tho
Split blunts down the middle
I got love for everybody, who give a f*ck how you feel though
In a big house with 10 hoes
Catch me in the hills blowin endo
Pool party, that's indoors
So much gin, take a swim ho
Homie pass the weed, let's get super high
I smoke that shit that made R. Kelly think that he could fly
Droppin racks off one plate
Took her to the strip then blew it
Took a lot of gin and some pills, took her to my hotel room like screw it
Smokin on pounds, smokin on pounds
In Seattle where ain't no crime
All I do is smoke weed and rhyme
Sip codeine just to eaze my mind

[Hook:]
Don't pass me no regular, I'm a turn it down
All I blow is loud, All I blow is loud
Don't pass me no regular, I'm a turn it down
All I blow is loud, All I blow is loud
I'm a turn it down, and be turnt up
I'm a turn it down, and be turnt up
I'm a turn it down, and be turnt up
I'm burnin' loud til my lungs burnt up

[Verse 2:]
Chugging on lean and I'm chiefin on skunk
With yo man girl and I eat like it's lunch
Kick it so tough you would think I roll pine
Niggas so high you would think I'm gon jump
Upwards and down, it's just like a sea saw
Her titties keep bouncing just like a beach ball
She oh want em all to be smoking, we f*ckin
On so many drugs that we can't sleep at all
Goons on my side, I got cars I don't drive
Got a bitch in my bed that's somebody's broad
Got kush in my blunt, got lean in my Sprite
I'm drunk as a fish and I'm high as a kite
Two down bitches and I'm in the middle
Maybach and my curtains I ain't got to the rental
I stay low, I look only in em
That's the killa loudpack in my cigarillo
No Reggie in my presence, tell them niggas get it right
I got girls doing girls now that's the shit I like
Now that's the shit I love, give me pussy money drugs
I take 30 out my stash then go blow it with my plug

[Hook: x2]
Don't pass me no regular, I'm a turn it down
All I blow is loud, All I blow is loud
Don't pass me no regular, I'm a turn it down
All I blow is loud, All I blow is loud
I'm a turn it down, and be turnt up
I'm a turn it down, and be turnt up
I'm a turn it down, and be turnt up
I'm burnin' loud til my lungs burnt up
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, LEXUS LEWIS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management






Bandz A Make Her Dance

[ Featuring Lil Wayne, 2 Chainz ]

[Intro: Lil Wayne sample]
Remix baaaby!

[Chorus 2X: Juicy J]
Bands a make her dance, bands a make her dance
All these chicks poppin' pussies, I'm just poppin' bands
Bands a make her dance, bands a make her dance
These chicks clappin', and they ain't using hands

[French Montana]
(MONTANA!)
Bands a make her dance, 20's make her glance
50's make her flip, 100's make her give me head (head)
Cheeks clappin' (clappin'), she don't use no hands (hands)
All this pussy poppin' (poppin'), I'm just poppin' bands (bands)
I just pay the mortgage (mortgage), I just pay the note (note)
Hurricane Katrina (Katrina), bitch you need a boat (boat)
Bitch you need to float, show me what your twerkin' with
20 bottles, 30 models, 40 burners, bitch!

[Lola Monroe]
She like what the f*ck is a dollar bill, ass pound like impolo wheels
3 wheel motion, grip and grain, f*ck the motion just get the change
I don't know what you thinking man, I take your money and get the brain
Them other bitches ain't build the same, he say you can't be real who built your frame
Ever seen a stripper got right, left, make it really wanna go pipe, that
But you ain't really gonna like, that, she f*ck your brain, no mic, check
Money (money), bet you brake it off
You see that ass, you see that cash, bet she take it off like..

[Chorus - 1X]

[Wiz Khalifa]
Yeah, nigga...
Taylor Gang... Juicy, you a legend, nigga
Hahahahah...

Uhh, I brought some bands so won't you dance, throw a stack on 2 hands
Another stack now that's 2 bands, bought a friend now that's 2 fans
Gettin' trippy now that's 2 Xans, double that now that's 4 bands
Juicy J he got more bands, trappin' hard like Snowman
Smokin' loud another grown man
Been gettin' money since a young nigga, but they respect me now couse I'm a grown man (ooh)
Condo by the ocean, forgot my watch now that's a Rolex
Hit the strip club, and spend more bread, and spill champenge on her for head (Yeah ho)
Smokin' and sippin, I'm talkin' that rich shit hoppin' that broke niggas listen
Shorty keep poppin' it strippin I got to reach in to my pockets keep tippin
Seen her with the team, that's my bands chick
Got rich off the internet so it's safe to say that's my band width
Tahahaha... Uhh

[Chorus - 1X]

[B.o.B]
Uh, bands a make her dance, it'll make that ass go hammer,
It'll get her heels high for the sky, it'll make the 2 lips kiss the floor when she land (Damn)
That outta do it, if I'm with a bitch then she probetly hood
Gin on the rocks gone off the kush, gone off the bean,cshe in Mollywood
She dance for my bands like it's homecoming, she ain't working gettin' money, she at home cummin'
I state the facts, I brake her back if I drop a grip like it's snow money
I see broke niggas watching, cause they ain't got no paint
It's a lot of niggas saving hoes but Bobby Ray can't
I say whats going broke can y'all reminds us, lost in the money can't y'all finds us
Tosh and Nicole sliddin' on a pole, booty going dumb like Alzheimer
I say what's going broke please y'all remind us, self made niggas no co-sign us
Tosh and Nicole sliddin' down a pole, booty going dumb like Alzheimer

[Chorus - 1X]

[Juicy J]
Bank teller, bad bitches, paid niggas, they love me
Stripper hoes, married women, I be whether the bubby
Met a girl named Porsche, with a style ass like a horse
In V.I.P, at KOD, I'm gettin' oral intercourse
Twerking for bandz, I be on Xan, she gon' keep poppin' them racks on your hands
Juicy stay making it rain in the club, and I ain't leaving 'til that bitch flood
Rollin' like it's nothin', and I don't give a damn
I would say no to ratchet pussy but I just don't think I can
In the streets with a stripper sipping lean and tweakin', pop molly and that ass 'bout to get freaky
Gotta get some brain man and see what she thinkin', shawty don't spit, she like to keep it
White girls on that ox, and I'm on Bombay in that KK
Got major brain like Mitt Romney, f*ck makin' it rain a tsunami
Bandz a make her dance [echoes]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: TAUHEED EPPS, MICHAEL WILLIAMS, DWAYNE CARTER, JORDAN HOUSTON, JUSTIN GARNER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management, RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC






Scholarship

[ Featuring ASAP Rocky ]

[Intro x4]
Get your money, get your money

[Bridge]
Say you need some extra cash to pay for college with
And it just so happens I got a lot of it
Spin around the pole while you're doing splits
By the end of the night might earn you a scholarship

[Hook]
You a college chick, you a college chick
Keep twerking baby, might earn you a scholarship
You a college chick, you a college chick
Keep twerking baby, might earn you a scholarship
100 dollars, 100 dollars, 100 dollars, trick
100 dollars, 100 dollars, 100 dollars, trick
You a college chick, you a college chick
By the end of the night might earn you a scholarship

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
Clap that ass, just like the clapper
All these bands now these bitches wanna f*ck with rappers
I got my Ghost outside, I call it Casper
Ain't no nigga fly as Juicy J, ask NASA
Show me some, I might owe you some
Them bands waiting and I know you want 'em
I'm tryna pay your student loans
F*ck your boyfriend, I want your number
Let me get that becky while I'm rolling up
Send my watch back to my jeweler, it ain't cold enough
Just a bunch of bad college chicks in the W with no clothes on
Trippy cup in my hand in the bathtub with my robe on
Tell all your girlfriend that I'm breaking bread and down to f*ck
One night, f*ck a wife, trippy niggas never cuff

[Bridge]

[Hook]

[Verse 2: A$AP Rocky]
Well f*ck her master, she got her bachelor
So she only f*cking rappers, she tired of cappers
And she only shake for backups, so shake it faster
It gets better every chapter, spit that Project Patta
(She call me master!)
Money, money, money while she grindin' on the pole
Dollar for a show but don't nobody gotta know
(Get it, get it off the floor)
She shakin' it like she strippin'
She only representin' for her bitches out in Memphis
Hol' up, hol' up wait a minute, I just came to my senses
I'm trippin' if I'm trickin' if I'm paying your tuition
Cause you know a couple principles or pals in your division
Pay attention, how I'm livin', bet you hate it like detention
Motherf*cker...

[Bridge]

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: GAMAL KOSH LEWIS, JACOB KASHER HINDLIN, JORDAN HOUSTON, RAKIM MAYERS, RICKY WITHERSPOON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management






If It Ain't

(Man, this trippy stick's some fire)

If it ain't kush, it won't touch my lighter
I only smoke that shit that get me higher (and higher, and higher, higher)
If it ain't drank, it ain't in my cup
Gotta be that purple and yellow, I be turnin' up (turnin' up)

If it ain't kush, it won't touch my lighter
I only smoke that shit that get me higher (and higher, and higher, higher)
If it ain't drank, it ain't in my cup
Gotta be that purple and yellow, I be turnin' up (turnin' up)

I stay, I stay high as f*ck
Pour me up some more Pimp C
Laid back with your girlfriend
She ride my dick like a GMC
Everyday I turn up
Burnin' green and sippin' lean
Codeine and Promethazine
My money longer than a limousine
Bitch bow down and kiss the ring
I count more cash than a money machine
I'm so dope in that Rolls Royce
You can park my shit on a triple beam
Squeaky clean, thousand dollar belt
Thousand dollar shoes, thousand dollar jeans
Juicy J so fresh to death, I hop out and I killed the scene
Real goons on my team, this black truck got a army in it
This the trippy life, my double cup got Barney in it (come here, bitch)
And the hoes here and I'm tryna f*ck
Your baby mama is not a ten but when I'm drunk she close enough

If it ain't kush, it won't touch my lighter
I only smoke that shit that get me higher (and higher, and higher, higher)
If it ain't drank, it ain't in my cup
Gotta be that purple and yellow, I be turnin' up (turnin' up)

If it ain't kush, it won't touch my lighter
I only smoke that shit that get me higher (and higher, and higher, higher)
If it ain't drank, it ain't in my cup
Gotta be that purple and yellow, I be turnin' up (turnin' up)

Shine so hard, you need shades
I been up for three days
I live that shit that I say
I'm getting stoned out on stage
Make a groupie go berserk
I got cake, no dessert
In the game twenty years
And I still sip that syrup
Juicy J is sick and that lean is my medicine
In the back seat of that Ghost all I see is that President
I pour lean in my lemonade and lean in my Sprite
Bitch, I'm getting high as f*ck for the rest of my life
Bitch, I live on cloud nine, prescription pills and cough syrup
Bad bitches keep rolling up, I f*ck your girl til' we sober up
Trippy trippy trippy, high like Bobby & Whitney
I stay turnt up, I stay pourin' up
I smoke more weed than a hippy

If it ain't kush, it won't touch my lighter
I only smoke that shit that get me higher (and higher, and higher, higher)
If it ain't drank, it ain't in my cup
Gotta be that purple and yellow, I be turnin' up (turnin' up)

If it ain't kush, it won't touch my lighter
I only smoke that shit that get me higher (and higher, and higher, higher)
If it ain't drank, it ain't in my cup
Gotta be that purple and yellow, I be turnin' up (turnin' up)

I smoke more weed than a hippy, I smoke more weed than a hippy
(I smoke more weed, I smoke more weed, I smoke more weed than a hippy)
I smoke more weed than a hippy, I smoke more weed than a hippy
(I smoke more weed, I smoke more weed, I smoke more weed than a hippy)

If it ain't kush, it won't touch my lighter
I only smoke that shit that get me higher (And higher, and higher, higher)
If it ain't drank, it ain't in my cup
Gotta be that purple and yellow, I be turnin' up (turnin' up)

If it ain't kush, it won't touch my lighter
I only smoke that shit that get me higher (and higher, and higher, higher)
If it ain't drank, it ain't in my cup
Gotta be that purple and yellow, I be turnin' up (turnin' up)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jordan Houston, Lexus Lewis
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Back to: Juicy J


Stay Trippy is the third solo studio album by American rapper Juicy J. The album was released on August 27, 2013, by Kemosabe Records and Columbia Records. The album was Juicy J's first solo album since distancing himself from Three 6 Mafia and joining Wiz Khalifa's Taylor Gang Records, who makes three appearances on the album.

Stay Trippy's production was handled between 2011 and 2013 by producers such as Juicy J himself, Mike Will Made It, Cirkut, Lex Luger, Sap, Supa Dups, ID Labs, Timbaland and Young Chop, among others. The album also features additional guest appearances from Justin Timberlake, Chris Brown, Lil Wayne, 2 Chainz, The Weeknd, ASAP Rocky, Wale, Trey Songz, Young Jeezy, Big Sean, Pimp C, Trina, Yelawolf and Project Pat.

Stay Trippy was met with generally positive reviews from critics. The album debuted at number four on the US Billboard 200, selling 64,000 copies in the United States during its first week. As of November 6, 2013, the album has sold 138,000 copies according to Nielsen SoundScan. The album was supported by four official singles, the certified platinum "Bandz a Make Her Dance", "Show Out", "Bounce It" and "Talkin' Bout". The first three charted on the US Billboard Hot 100. He also went on the Stay Trippy Tour with ASAP Ferg beginning on April 20, 2013, till September 2013.
Performed By: Juicy J
Genre(s): Hip hop
Length: 61:37
Released: August 27th, 2013
Year: 2013

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