Juice WRLD
Bigger (Biscotti In The Air) [Full Lyrics]
[Intro: Juice WRLD & Ally Lotti]
Haha
This n***a crazy (Surf)
Bae, say something on the mic
Bitch, I'm high as fuck (Yessir)
Let me add Ally to the second verse, she in there? (Hey)
Bitch
Smoking Cookie Crisp (Yeah)
Stupid bitch (Yeah, hahahaha)
(8-8-8-808 Mafia)
All that shit, fuck yo' Glock, I need a gun with bigger tits (All that shit)

[Chorus]
Fuck your Glock, I need a gun with bigger tits (Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh-yeah)
Pop that 30, not that 10, I need a bigger itch (Oh, yeah)
I got a job for you hoes, finding a bigger bitch (Oh, yeah)
Tryna move that cocaine by the zip, hide it by your tits (Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh, yeah)
Uh, young rich n***as, we rare (Uh-huh)
All the hoes stop and stare (Uh-huh)
Louis V underwear (Uh-huh)
VVS solar flare (Uh-huh)
Eskimo polar bear (Uh-huh)
Designer I wear (Uh-huh)
Bad vibes over there (Uh-huh)
In my recliner chair, putting biscotti in the air
[Verse 1]
Whole lotta gang shit Kel-Tec go Bang
Bust at the brain
Bust-down my wrist with Baguettes that’s the name (Yeah)
Lace up the Gucci's, and run to the bank (Uh)
Double R Truck, pull out (Uh)
Kel-Tec tucked in the back seat, pull out
Fuck n***a run like a track meet, pull out (Brr)
Pop out, aim at him, knocked down, then I put
The top down
Turn up the music, yeah rock out (Yeah)
I need fellatio, my cock out (Yeah)
Ion’ trust you hoes, still got my Glock out
I used to stay two doors down from a crack house
Two years later I was working in a crack house
N***as run in and gun twerking in a crack house
I was smoking ‘extendos, and white-outs (Yeah)
True jeans and ‘timbos, yeah
My shirt collar polo, yeah from TJ MAX for the low, yeah
Came a long way from those days, if I could go back there I would go there, cus’ I had all my bros’ there
(Nevermind i don't wanna go there)

[Chorus]
Fuck your Glock, I need a gun with bigger tits (Oh, yeah)
Pop that 30, not that 10, I need a bigger itch (Oh, yeah)
I got a job for you hoes, finding a bigger bitch (Oh, yeah)
Tryna move that cocaine by the zip, hide it by your tits (Oh, yeah)
Uh, young rich n***as, we rare (Uh-huh)
All the hoes stop and stare (Uh-huh)
Louis V underwear (Uh-huh)
VVS solar flare (Uh-huh)
Eskimo polar bear (Uh-huh)
Designer I wear (Uh-huh)
Bad vibes over there (Uh-huh)
In my recliner chair, putting biscotti in the air
[Verse 2]
Im surfing on the wave, numbing all the pain, novocaine with the Percs (Uh)
Im out my body beat me up scotty, yeah I ain’t coming back to earth (Uh Uh)
Without that Molly best believe he ain’t gon’ kill nobody (Haha)
My n***as don’t need no money, if I tell them they’ll kill somebody (Brr)
Uh, yeah
N***a, what's good?
Four of my n***as ride through your hood, uh, yeah (Brr)
Wish you would, who do you think you are, Young Suge? Uh, yeah (The fuck?)
Gettin' in good, leave 'em laying on the front porch like his house haunted (Yeah)
Roll up 'woods, pour up mud, let's get stuck (Bitch)
Where'd all the real ones go? We the only real ones, uh (That's for real)
We in yo' place, get in the way, we gon' kill some (That's for real)
I miss my dog, enemies fall, make him feel us (Us)
Won't stop 'til we see blood, make him feel the real us (Baow, baow, baow)
Pain in they veins, bullets tear, leave a stain (Yeah)
From the pain in our brains when they took when I gained (Uh)
Now the days ain't the same
Make me wanna scream out they names (Fuck)
No reply, so we gettin' high, plottin' from the other side (Boom, Boom)

[Chorus]
Fuck your Glock, I need a gun with bigger tits (Oh, yeah)
Pop that 30, not that 10, I need a bigger itch (Oh, yeah)
I got a job for you hoes, finding a bigger bitch (Oh, yeah)
Tryna move that cocaine by the zip, hide it by your tits (Oh, yeah)
Uh, young rich n***as, we rare (Uh-huh)
All the hoes stop and stare (Uh-huh)
Louis V underwear (Uh-huh)
VVS solar flare (Uh-huh)
Eskimo polar bear (Uh-huh)
Designer I wear (Uh-huh)
Bad vibes over there (Uh-huh)
In my recliner chair, putting biscotti in the air
[Outro]
808 Mafia