You Wouldn't Understand - Juice WRLD

[Intro]
(808 Mafia)
Oh, oh, oh
9, oh, 9 this time (I'ma say this one time, one time only)
Water (What you don’t understand)
Got Ski with me in this bitch, you know? Gang shit

[Chorus]
What you don't understand 'bout me is (Yeah)
I never gave a fuck about a goddamn thing (What? What? Yeah)
I wake up in the morning, do my goddamn thing, I— (Woah)
Huh (Uh)
What you don’t understand 'bout me is (Uh-huh)
I never gave a fuck about a goddamn thing (Uh-huh)
I wake up in the morning, do my goddamn thing (Woah)
I pop, I sip, I pour up lean, I—

[Verse 1]
I'm lost in my abyss (Uh-huh)
Wake up, all I see is black, a solar eclipse (Uh-huh)
All I know is guns and sex, load up the clip (Uh-huh)
Told your bitch to get on her knees and suck the dick right (Freak ho, yeah, yeah)
I'ma live my life like it's my last days
Don't believe in slow, I'm movin' fast paced
Ain’t no Tom and Jerry ’round here, ain't no rat race
This is an outrage (This is an outrage)
I ain’t sleep in like six days (I ain't sleep in like six days)
Poppin' Percs, I can't think straight (I can’t think straight)
I still run it like a relay, relay (Run it, run it)

[Chorus]
What you don't understand 'bout me is
I never gave a fuck about a goddamn thing
I wake up in the morning, do my goddamn thing
I pop, I sip, I pour up lean, I—

[Verse 2]
I break the pill into minerals (What else?)
Then I put it in my cereal, uh (What else?)
They look at me as a criminal (What else?)
Hate on the kid 'cause this shit getting critical (Ya dig?)
You got a Lambo' truck, it's rented though (Ya dig?)
Look at my car, you can't, it's tinted, ho (Ya dig?)
Bad bitch in the back seat, got ten of those (Ya dig?)
Hit her like a dance, gigolo-gigolo (Ya dig?)
I got 'em puzzled just like a riddle (Uh)
Freestyle shit, I don't ever spit writtens (Uh)
Beat up the pussy, I don't fuck with the kitten (Shh)
Thirty clip hangin' out the black-ass Smith & (Shh)
Catch me listenin' to John Lennon (Ayy)
With your bitch in Versace linens (Ayy, bitch)
Or maybe Ozzy, or maybe Billy Idol, that's one of my idols livin' (On God)
I'm in the party, I don't really need no posse, I'm boolin' with 150 (On God)
That's my shawty, finna get the boy name tatted all over her titties (On God)
Remember Huaraches and stealin' food out of Hibachi, wouldn't catch me tippin' (On God)
Brand new shotty, twelve-gauge on that body, don't let me catch you slippin', yeah, yeah (Grrah)