Back to Top

geekin Video (MV)




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




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
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


English

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

Back to: brandi jade

Tags:
No tags yet