Текст песни Juice - future

California, county of Los Angeles. We the jury in the above entitled action find the defendant Orenthal James Simpson not guilty of the crime of murder
We don't want to talk about it,
We don't want to talk about it
It's personal, free 'em now
Murder trials, OJ Simpson
White on white, OJ Simpson
Double murder, OJ Simpson
Oh that's your girl? You know I hit her
Pity niggas, she through with them
Tryna fuck my baby mama, dog what's up with you?
You gon' make me get that heat, I'm pulling up on you
Certified maniac, don't you test my patience
Came in with the robbers and a bunch of wild Haitians
Fuck them bougie hoes, take them on vacation
I fuck bougie hoes, we don't have relations
Fuck them bougie hoes, feed them medication
I can walk on water 'cause a nigga wavy
You can place an order, I'm guaranteed to take it
Times got harder, they thought we wouldn't make it
Got to grind harder, I started going brazy
Took a couple Vicodins and started feeling amazing
Double murder homicide with no visitation
Took a couple Adderall for my concentration
It's personal, free 'em now
Murder trials, OJ Simpson
White on white, OJ Simpson
Double murder, OJ Simpson
Oh that's your girl? You know I hit her
Pity niggas, she through with them
Tryna fuck my baby mama, dog what's up with you?
You gon' make me get that heat, I'm pulling up on you
I heard you niggas plottin', I know you heard I'm bad
These goofies got me high and it's paper in my stash
Before I signed my deal I had a million cash
I got to keep it trill before you even ask
These diamonds on me clear, they looking like glass
I drank it out the seal then roll it out the bag
Come from out the field, we rolled up with the trash
They grind up on some mills, they treat you with some class
You hold 'em back 'til we made it out the trap
You better wear your gloves and hit 'em with the mac
Fucking with the plug, I'm running up a sack
I walk inside the club, I got to have the strap
It's personal, free 'em now
Murder trials, OJ Simpson
White on white, OJ Simpson
Double murder, OJ Simpson
Oh that's your girl? You know I hit her
Pity niggas, she through with them
Tryna fuck my baby mama, dog what's up with you?
You gon' make me get that heat, I'm pulling up on you