That same bluntness carries over into other piano lead tracks like “Robbery” where he chants like an open-mic slam poet and channels John Cusack in Say Anything attempting to get his girlfriend back: “I’m throwing rocks at your window, I need to go home.” On the album opener, “Empty,” Juice WRLD uses drugs like a Band-Aid to cover up his issues (“I problem solve with styrofoam”) over imitation Zaytoven keys from his go-to producer Nick Mira. Fifty percent of the lyrics are bad (“Back on my bullshit, devil emoji”) and the other 50 percent are also bad, but then they get stuck in your head and ultimately turn good (“Tell me your darkest secret shit you wouldn’t even tell Jesus”). Throughout Death Race For Love’s 72 minutes-there’s no reason a Juice WRLD album should be the length of a podcast and a half-Juice WRLD’s lyrics fall into two categories.
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