Pop It

[Intro: Juice WRLD] Set up shop If  the score's down then we gon' shop for opps Watch  the clock, I'm coming for y'all Are you ready or not? Hit-Boy Check  the charts (Oh) Boutta  break these niggas hearts (Oh) You wanna play some cards? (Oh) This  is the ace of hearts (Oh) Check the charts (Oh) I'm finna break these niggas hearts, hearts (Oh) You wanna play some cards? (Oh) This  is the ace of hearts (Oh) Money in my hand (Oh) I- (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh) Yeah (Yeah) Hop out [?] [Chorus: Juice WRLD] Hop out, pop it (Yeah) Fuck your problem (Oh, yeah) Fuck your posse (Oh, yeah) You don't want no problem (Want no problem) Hop out, pop it (Huh, pop it) Fuck your posse (Fuck your posse) I'm off the Perkys with niggas (Perkys) Fuck your molly (Fuck your molly) I'm in Atlanta with Dracos Talkin' that shit, get a halo Got your bitch and she gone off the Henno' She a drinker she on her alcoholic mind, we know With Swervo we gettin' the bankrolls Off the Percs while you keeping a dank roll I don't smoke while I pour my lean Herb, is it possible to pour up Posto? [Verse 1: Juice WRLD] There's a couple dead niggas I know They grave got pissed on by my kinfolk Chicago getting too disrespectful Ten thousand, that's on a pea coat Help me hold the drum, it isn't a reload Beat on your chest, like you talking to King Kong That's if you get in the way of these bankrolls (Woah, oh, oh) [Interlude: Juice WRLD & G Herbo] Right, okay, alright, alright, okay, alright Hey Swervo, I'm sick of talking to these niggas I don't think they getting the message like You probably gonna have to just hop on this bitch and just, you know, make it clear for these dumbasses Yeah It's like man, I'm a rich ass nigga from Chicago Of course bro Niggas don't be making it out Niggas don't even know me for real man That sad boy shit don't mean shit Uh, look [Verse 2: G Herbo] Swerv' pop out with that Glock out (Swerv') You already know how I rock out (Bitch) I get my enemies chopped dead Then ride like Suge with the top down (Uh) And I don't fuck four seven (Uh-uh) But I got this bitch on lock down (Uh-huh) Air you dead on the opps that took Roc down Foenem pullin' up finna pop now (Skrr) Once the body drop, we won't stop now I gotta hit the road, I'm outta town [?] hit your mans, say "I got M's" 'Til I catch him outta bounds, oh I got him now And I used to trap before I got an album Me and bro switched shifts, so I got an hour Goin' brazy on this rap shit, got 'em sour Bitch I feel like [?], I got the power Bitch I don't got no snap, I don't got no apps On Cap ain't none of that bap, bitch I got arrested in February yeah, but that bitch still on my lap Always safe, don't care if they book me anywhere (Uh-huh) I could describe them shootouts play by play, 'cause I was really there FaceTime Mike Amiri, I point out any pair Told G-Money I misplaced the guala, and he ain't even really care We blow that money we chase together and we gon' chase forever, misplace whatever Talk about Ks, Berettas, hit his face whenever [Chorus: Juice WRLD] Hop out, pop it (Grah) Fuck your problem Fuck your posse You don't want no problem Hop out, pop it Fuck your posse I'm off the Perkys with niggas Fuck your molly I'm in Atlanta with Dracos Talkin' that shit, get a halo Got your bitch and she gone off the Henno' She a drinker she on her alcoholic mind, we know With Swervo we gettin' the bankrolls Off the Percs while you keeping a dank roll I don't smoke while I pour my lean Herb, is it possible to pour up Posto?