Geeked Up!

Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
Yeah
Aye

Took her to the A, you know we geeked up
I jus met this bitch, she wanna meet up
Thirty thousand piece, twin got me for the feature
She sum trouble, I really don't need her
She will swallow everything, boy she a eater
Getting it the right way, boy I ain't no cheater
First time I punched it was a Visa
I followed you, you was the leader

Broke boy you still in a Kia
Shorty tripping I don't wanna see her
Need space, need like a meter
Making plays, we Martin and Gina
And I got my Nina
Talm bout you love her never seen her
I don't want that bitch you needa keep her
I be round my sons like the teacher
Boy you betta go call a preacher
Better hurry up you needa leave her
She for the gang, she a beater
She not special, we not finna treat her

Know I keep the heat, like Lebron James
Boy you so broke, you ain't got a damn thang
Married to the money, feelin' like a man slave
You ain't got exotic, boy you smoking propane
Running to the bag, I hadda go my own way
If you ain't talking guap, boy you gotta go away
Told him pull a ten, he ain't have nun to say
Know the gang got me right when it was a rainy day

Pour the drop into the lemonade
Put that fye on you, you goin marinate
I don't want probelms, less I'm gettin paid
I ain't fold on em, laughing to the bank



Credits
Writer(s): Phillip Ranson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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