Juice WRLD - Blood On My Jeans

[Intro] Damn, I tried to stop, oh Baby (808 Mafia), baby (Baby), baby (Baby), babe You literally are my everything (Baby, Gezin) Hah (Baby) [Chorus] Baby, I've been on the run (Yeah) But I would never run from your love (Uh-uh) If you feel on my dick, there's a gun (Uh-huh) Not right there, just a little above I value my relationship, it's forever But I've been cheatin' on the drugs (Yeah) Broke up with codeine, need a new plug (Yeah) Hit up Hot, raw pints, I need two of 'em (Yeah) Huh, lean, huh Put Biscotti in my lungs, I'm smokin' green Chopper on me, I don't talk, I just up the beam Huh, let my gun bust a nut, then leave (Yeah) I ain't leave a clue on the scene (Uh-uh) Close range, so I got blood on my jeans (Uh) [Verse] Saints Row cup, ain't no red in my lean (Uh-uh) Bankrolled up, I been swimmin' in green (Uh-huh) Still a blue face king Benjamin Franklin come dirty and clean (Let's go) I know my haters hate to see me succeed If they get the chance, they'll end up murderin' me That shit got me laughin', haha Kel-Tec get to rappin', grrah, grrah Fuck nigga, I'm your father Don't matter if you older They say age is just a number If that's the case, I'm way over Than who? These niggas (Uh-huh) And these bitches that think that they get it (Uh-huh) For a backstage pass, she'll suck the dick (Uh-huh) Bitch, I got a bitch, better get you a ticket (Uh-huh) Walk through the night with my gun like a creep On my shirt Maison Martin, my shoes double-C I don't know what it's gonna take you to believe I ain't goin' nowhere, I ain't gon' leave you (Ayy, ayy, ayy) I ain't goin' nowhere, I ain't gon' leave you You stuck with me, apologies for my fuckery [Chorus] Baby, I've been on the run But I would never run from your love If you feel on my dick, there's a gun Not right there, just a little above I value my relationship, it's forever But I've been cheatin' on the drugs (Yeah) Broke up with codeine, need a new plug (Yeah) Hit up Hot, raw pints, I need two of 'em (Yeah) Huh, lean, huh Put Biscotti in my lungs, I'm smokin' green Chopper on me, I don't talk, I just up the beam Huh, let my gun bust a nut, then leave (Yeah) I ain't leave a clue on the scene Close range, so I got blood on my jeans