Songfacts®:

• Initially, "We Don't Get Along" sounds like another breakup song, but it soon becomes clear that the relationship falling apart isn't between two lovers: It's between Juice WRLD and himself.
• The key line arrives like a punch to the sternum:
  
  Looking in the mirror with these words on my tongue
  I've come to this conclusion, we don't get along
  
  Juice is addressing the person staring back at him. The same self, consumed by addiction, anxiety, and self-destructive impulses that haunted so much of his music. The song fits a pattern that ran throughout his catalog, where Juice turns his own demons into characters. Songs like "Lucid Dreams (Forget Me)" and "Righteous" blur the line between confession and conversation, as though he were trying to negotiate with the darker corners of his own mind.
• Juice wrote the song with Marshmello, whose production wraps the track in shadowy guitar loops and crisp trap percussion. "We Don't Get Along" continues the creative partnership that produced some of Juice WRLD's most recognizable crossover moments. Juice's previous collaborations with Marshmello include "Bye Bye," "Come & Go" and "Hate The Other Side."
• Juice first previewed "We Don't Get Along" on November 11, 2019, just weeks before his death on December 8, 2019. Like many unreleased Juice songs, it quickly became part of the internet's vast unofficial archaeology project, leaking online in 2020 and circulating among fans for years afterward. Then, in November 2024, Marshmello announced during Kai Cenat's MAFIATHON Twitch stream that the song would finally receive an official release. It arrived on March 6, 2026.
• The video, directed by animator Johnny McHone, leans fully into the dreamlike instability of the song. Rendered entirely in claymation, it follows Juice through shifting landscapes where nature scenes dissolve into surreal purple skies and floating heads drift through the clouds. The handmade texture of the animation gives it an oddly fragile quality, as though the world might crack if handled too roughly. It feels like an extension of the emotional world Juice spent his career building: lonely, distorted, and permanently hovering somewhere between a lucid dream and a cry for help.