GEEK

Yo slime that's forever man
Pow
Pow
Huh yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Thirty on me nigga
I got the beam
My shooter rock out
He laugh like a meme
I'm smoking gas
Got some tropical trees
Bitch call my phone
Like fuck do you need
She need the racks
Yeah she need the green
My shooter rock out
He laugh like a meme
I'm smoking on gas
Got tropical trees
Bitch call my phone
Like fuck do you need
Pow
I had to man up
I swear to god
That these niggas
Be talking no money
Boy I had to man up
And I swear to god
I go run it
Huh Like I got no manners
Now go head
And go make a way
Huh huh
Know I'ma standard
A standard
Damn
Nigga chit chat
That shit was so random
She said I was hot
I was handsome
Tell the lil boy
Get his bands up
And smoking the za
I'm smoking exotic
I got it
She off a narcotic
And I'ma go head
And get to my money
And stuff in my pants
Not no wallet
You not trapping
He not in the band o
She tryna put you
In the friend zone
While I'ma go score
In the end zone
Playing them games
Like nintendo
I swear to god
On my brother My slime
And we do it
We going to win bro
Yeah my brother
My twin tho
Get it out
Go get it in tho
Nike
I'ma go head get a check
I do what I did
I did what I did for the best
I'm from the East town
That nigga talking
In the west
I know she want me
But I rather fuck on a check
Damn
Lets go
I rather fuck on a check
I rather fuck on a check



Credits
Writer(s): Joseph Stanford
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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