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brandi jade - geekin Lyrics



brandi jade - geekin Lyrics




Pull up on this f*ckin' block and let that chopper blow
I'm in your city, bitch, I'm tryna owe that f*ckin' school
Me and Lil' Wad, we finna pop out with these 30 hoes
In your block, post it up, in some f*ckin' black tees

F*ck your bars, we roll that pack, this shit, you know me
Where the f*ck is that lil' boy? We smoke anxietic weed
Reaper on my mind, don't ever think I'm gettin' no sleep
Dirty spark, pour it up, I'm tryna feel it deep

I'm gettin' f*cked so bad I can't even f*ckin' see
Banro, fresh f*ck, y'all hoes ain't got shit on me
Popped out, leave the f*ck, I'm lickin' like a cremin' tree
You stucked all on that boy, now tell him he can't come around

Got your ho up in the truck, he makin' f*ckin' sounds
We got a gang up in this bitch, let's get it poppin' now
I'm Mrs. P and I'd be glad to take your f*ckin' hoe
I love my Glock, you know I always gotta bring my hoe

F*ck all the ones that ever doubted me
Lil' bitch, I ain't got no friends for that lil' shit
I put my feelings all up in his jeans
7-6-2, knocked him out his feet, nah, he can't f*ckin' run

He broke and he keep cryin' bout a big hoe
Get your money up, lil' bro, claim me that you really solid
Nigga, you ain't even real, f*ck a 3.5, I'm tryna get a motherf*ckin' zip
Smokin' on this op pack, got some oxal in my copula

Buddy doin' all that yappin', we gon' bust him in his mouth
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Pull up on this f*ckin' block and let that chopper blow
I'm in your city, bitch, I'm tryna owe that f*ckin' school
Me and Lil' Wad, we finna pop out with these 30 hoes
In your block, post it up, in some f*ckin' black tees

F*ck your bars, we roll that pack, this shit, you know me
Where the f*ck is that lil' boy? We smoke anxietic weed
Reaper on my mind, don't ever think I'm gettin' no sleep
Dirty spark, pour it up, I'm tryna feel it deep

I'm gettin' f*cked so bad I can't even f*ckin' see
Banro, fresh f*ck, y'all hoes ain't got shit on me
Popped out, leave the f*ck, I'm lickin' like a cremin' tree
You stucked all on that boy, now tell him he can't come around

Got your ho up in the truck, he makin' f*ckin' sounds
We got a gang up in this bitch, let's get it poppin' now
I'm Mrs. P and I'd be glad to take your f*ckin' hoe
I love my Glock, you know I always gotta bring my hoe

F*ck all the ones that ever doubted me
Lil' bitch, I ain't got no friends for that lil' shit
I put my feelings all up in his jeans
7-6-2, knocked him out his feet, nah, he can't f*ckin' run

He broke and he keep cryin' bout a big hoe
Get your money up, lil' bro, claim me that you really solid
Nigga, you ain't even real, f*ck a 3.5, I'm tryna get a motherf*ckin' zip
Smokin' on this op pack, got some oxal in my copula

Buddy doin' all that yappin', we gon' bust him in his mouth
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: brandi martin
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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brandi jade - geekin Video
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Performed By: brandi jade
Language: English
Length: 1:42
Written by: brandi martin

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