Future & Juice WRLD – No Issue Lyrics

No Issue

Future & Juice WRLD

Lyrics copied!

"No Issue." - Future & Juice WRLD

Sunday, 18 October 2026, 10:02 pm

Album: Future & Juice WRLD Present... WRLD ON DRUGS

Track No: 11

Don't let these bitches get in your head
Wheezy outta here
Fallin' out of love with Xanax
Livin' my life on the edge
I'm sacrificin' everything
I did Oxy', I don't need alcohol
I pop Rolexes like they Adderall
Continuin', deliverin' the substance
I'ma be there for my bros, one call
Don't you try and judge us like you ain't got no flaws
Don't you try and judge us
Don't you try and trust us
Let it go down, down, down, ain't no issues
She gon' cry, cry, cry, she feel misused
Uh, she wanna kick it, she know judo
I cannot save her, I'm not a hero
Bank account commas and zeros
Gucci, Amiri, my apparel
Keep a pistol, let it hit ya, I'm official
Fuck that bitch, I will not kiss her, I won't miss her, uh
Make her cry, cry, cry, she need tissue
I get high, high, high, and have no issues
VVS on me, no igloo, you say you fly, but we been flew
Ah, ah, ah
I told that bitch it ain't no way around it like Future
Come to find out, yesterday, she was fuckin' on Future
Stripper bitches callin' on my phone
They wanna know when I'll show up to the club
'Cause I throw hundreds in that bitch, ain't throwin' dubs
Spend a check, oh, money love
Designer clothes, designer hoes, designer drugs
50K for the Birkin bag, did it just because
I'm in Chicago where they drill, drill, drill, drill
No Limit gang with me, yeah, they real, real, real, real
FBG up in here, Future real, real, real, real
Perky pop, love the pills, mix it with Klonopins
Yeah, draped up when I walk into the club
Hundred racks in my pockets, ain't no dubs
Lot of Crip **** spillin' lotta blood
Got a million-dollar ice just because
Exotic hoes, exotic clothes, exotic drugs
All hundreds in my bank, ain't find a dub
Blow some gas on that ****, he a dub
Untamed make me feel, feel, feel, feel
No Limit gang whippin' that real, real, real, real
Rest in peace, you either kill or be killed
Bullets flyin', flyin', flyin', flyin'
Homicide-cide-cide, let's get high, high, high
Make her cry, cry, cry, she need tissue
I get high, high, high and have no issues
VVS on me, no igloo, you say you fly, we been flew
Ah, ah, ah
You can see what we done been through
You didn't see the road we took, it was grimy
You don't know the way we been through
Bullets, fly, fly, fly, make you cry, cry, cry

Writer(s): Nayvadius Wilburn, Jarad Higgins, Wesley Glass & Rosie Lowe.

All lyrical content displayed on this website is the intellectual property of its respective copyright holders. No ownership is implied, and no copyright infringement is intended.