Juice WRLD – Out My Way Lyrics

Out My Way

Juice WRLD

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"Out My Way." - Juice WRLD

Wednesday, 21 October 2026, 03:01 am

Album: Death Race For Love (Bonus Track Version)

Track No: 16

Aye, we up, aye
Hit-Boy
Max, c'mon, we gotta be one-takin' shit
I ain't gon' even need no lean to pipe me up
New **** on the block, yeah, I got my Glocky
Look like I've been locked up, arms kinda stocky
Wrist on rocky, wish a **** tried to stop me
Usain Bolt with the glizzy, it's a track meet
Make him take off like Migos
In the kitchen whippin' up the bricks, servin' kilos
If I gotta get in your door, I pick the key, though
Full of shit, bitch boy, these hoes like A-holes
Every day I wake up, thinkin' 'bout the Pesos
Gettin' bankrolls, sayin' R.I.P. to Bankroll, keep the dank rolled
Codeine in the double cup I'm sippin', aye
Stevie Wonder, it's gon' take away my vision, aye
007, with that Glock, I got precision, aye
You be talkin' 'bout the shit, when I been did it, aye
Free my **** in that jam (Yeah)
I don't give a shit, and I don't give a Hoover damn
Last bitch said I wasn't shit, she wanna let me cram (Bitch)
Hit it from the back, oh yes, I am
Chopper make your brains turn to eggs, Sam-I-Am
I had a feelin' they was gon' switch up, will.i.am
Two pints of Wockhardt, sealed up in my hand
Clean ****, but I'm sippin' till I do the muddy dance
A broke ****, I got rich and now I do the money dance
Feel like Hugh Hefner, these bitches finna do the bunny dance
On the dick for a trick, then after that she fucked her friend
I ain't gon' trick off no bitch, I don't pay, I just get in
I ain't really usually the one to be talking my shit, but
I think I'm finna talk my shit one time for the one time
Two times, maybe a few times
Ruinin' careers, man, this shit easy
What my **** Davis say? This shit beyond me, yo, aye
Okay I'm back in, gettin' it crackin' with ya broad
After she helped me get my rocks off, she fucked the squad
They think I'm a bitch because they heard the sad songs, that's a façade
I'm one of them **** that'll have an atheist screamin' out to God
And I don't want no problems, really, I'm just tryna get my sack up
But if it's a problem, bruh gon' come and shoot you from the neck up
That bitch a lil' giraffe the way she bend over and neck us
Got Killer-Tecs and silver black Berettas if they disrespect us
Way, way, way, way, way, way (Hit-Boy)
Out my way, way, way, way
Fuck out my way
Way, way, way, way, way, way (Bitch, way)
Out my way, way, way, way
Get the fuck out my way
Way, way, way, way, way, way (Bitch, way)
Out my way, way, way, way
Get the fuck out my way
Way, way, way, way, way, way (C'mon)
Fuck out my way, way, c'mon
Get the fuck out my way

Writer(s): Jarad Higgins & Chauncey Hollis.

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