Duke Deuce – “WTF!” (Lyrics, Video)

Duke Deuce premieres the visual for the oldhauntie-produced “WTF!” track. Read the lyrics.

Duke Deuce Wtf!

The Memphis menace is living up to his moniker, meshing crazy high energy with crunk music and giving us records like “WTF!” that just make you want to start throwing sh*t around. And that is exactly what Deuce in his crew got into in the video for the three-lettered record.

Starting with Duke dripped all the way out in head-to-toe Versace with the massive Quality Control chain hanging around his neck, the visuals for “WTF!” start high energy and never let down. With growing mouths and triple vision shots of Deuce himself, the video flashes from the van to the stage to the “SPIN” rapper and his crew going crazy in the crib, making cookies in the microwave and throwing breakfast cereal all around. They pop bottles of champagne and celebrate on stage as “WTF!” blasts out and the record seriously makes you want to start throwing whatever is closest to you.

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Lyrics

[Intro]
​​oldhauntie came through

[Chorus]
Nigga, what the fuck?! (Huh?)
Nigga, what the fuck?! (Nigga, what the fuck?!)
Bitch, what the fuck?! (What, what, what?)
Bitch, what the fuck?! (Bitch, what the fuck?!)
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), what the (What?)
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), What the fuck?!
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), what the (What?)
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), What the fuck?!

[Bridge]
Shut the fuck up
Shut the fuck up (Bitch), shut the fuck up (Stupid ho)
Shut the fuck up (Bitch), shut the fuck up (Stupid ho)
Shut the fuck up (Bitch), shut the fuck up (Stupid ho)
(What the fuck?!)

[Verse 1]
Fuck whoever don’t like this song, I crank this bitch up by my own (Ayy-ayy)
Crunkstars in the fuckin’ crowd, get buck, get wild, let’s go, let’s go (Let’s go, let’s go)
I might jaw a nigga just to show him I ain’t no fuckin ho (No fuckin ho)
I told Wafi, “Heavy on the ice, my pockets on fuckin’ swole”
Building my brand from the fuckin’ ground up, you ain’t never gone see me fold (See me fold)
Lame ass nigga, we know y’all hatin’ on us, that’s why we fuckin’ y’all hoes (Fuckin’ y’all hoes)
See my ice, she see my whip, the bitch gon’ blow like good C4
I’m the gang, he the gang, she the gang, we the gang, sticking to them Triple M codes
I don’t know nobody realer, I’m really eatin’ steaks with some muhfuckin’ killers
You must want Anna like Miller
Bitch, I’m rich, I drop off the scriller to hitters
Still on my toes like Thriller
Hoes by the two’s, one chocolate, and one is vanilla
And bitch, I own all my cars, I ain’t nothin’ like these rap niggas
On God

[Chorus]
Nigga, what the fuck?! (Huh?)
Nigga, what the fuck?! (Nigga, what the fuck?!)
Bitch, what the fuck?! (What, what, what?)
Bitch, what the fuck?! (Bitch, what the fuck?!)
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), what the (What?)
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), What the fuck?!
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), what the (What?)
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), What the fuck?!

[Verse 2]
Fuck the laws, lil’ bitch, I’m hot
Cock the Glock, get popped, get dropped
This not a hard top, this the drop (The drop)
Put me on any beat, I bet I pop (I pop)
Nigga really talking like Duke ain’t the hardest
Rap game janitor, take out the garbage
Styling, I can drip a shirt out of Target
Black and white money, I’m in everybody market
Lacking never, gangsta forever
Why pay a shooter? I can shoot the shit better
Bottom plastic, the top is metal
Shoot ’em, bow-bow, leave his soul in the weather
I did it, I done it, now tell me who better
Don’t play with Duke Deuce, that’s a whole ‘nother level
Wherever, whenever, pop shit on whoever
Protected by God, but the choppa the devil (Yeah, yeah)
Two-toned pendant, but the center rose gold
Leave your ho ’cause she might get stole
I was out late, you was under your ho
You ain’t got no grind, can’t meet your goals
Everybody know I’m that nigga, but don’t nobody know you, nigga
Money ain’t fall in my lap
Half of these rappers ain’t winnin’ off trap, nigga, we know you cap
Niggas done threatened my life, I was still thinkin’ ’bout money
Like niggas ain’t talkin’ bout nothin, you ain’t never even beat up nothin’
Last time I checked, you a bitch, you must turnt to a G or some
You too old to be trying to get rank
Lil’ boy, sit down before you get spanked, bitch

[Chorus]
Nigga, what the fuck?! (Huh?)
Nigga, what the fuck?! (Nigga, what the fuck?!)
Bitch, what the fuck?! (What, what, what?)
Bitch, what the fuck?! (Bitch, what the fuck?!)
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), what the (What?)
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), What the fuck?!
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), what the (What?)
What the (Huh?), What the (Who?)
What the (What?), What the fuck?!