Geek’d lyrics

[Intro: Asian Da Brat]
Ayy, let me hear that ho, Jeff
Tell me
b*tch, I'm geeked
Rollin'
b*tch, I'm geeked
On my feet (On my feet)
b*tch, I'm geeked
b*tch, I'm geeked (Geeked, geeked)
b*tch, I'm geeked

[Verse 1: Asian Da Brat]
Walk in, I'm geeked, the Gucci my sneaks
That b*tch she a fan, on her knees, she gon' eat
Beat up your ho like I beat up the beat
Claim you a shooter, I'm waiting to see
Think I'ma cop me a crib overseas
You thought I was pus*y, unleashing the beast
Don't type how I feel, just try me and see, ayy
Tape on the mind, we tittin' for tat
Them bricks in the trunk, take the work to her bag
b*tches be lurking, I sh*t on they ass
I hopped out my Birkin, then hopped in the Jag
Stacking and spending, the money gon' last
Hating I'm winning, I take it and laugh
Young with a whole lot of cash
Birds sail, shipping through mail
These n*ggas be soft and they talking to 12
Who would've thought? Free my n*ggas in jail
Pop out Givenchy, big racks on the shelf
Talking no money? I'm sorry, I'm deaf
The chopper go crazy, it's stiff like an L
Finessing and flexing, I want all the wealth
Go hard and I'm wishing 'em well
Ooh, I got the juice
Pop me a Xanny then call the masseuse
Diamonds they dripping, I'm catching the flu
My b*tches do b*tches, then bring me the loot
[Verse 2: Yung Mal]
Lil p*ssy
Ooh, ooh, ooh
I'm rockin' double G, skip to my lou (Gucci)
I'm on that dirty, I feel like a boot
I came from the bottom, I ball, Caillou (Ball, swish)
Keep it one hundred, I'm tellin' the truth (One hundred)
We bust 'em down and we mailin' 'em too (Bust 'em down)
We trap out that b*tch 'til the lease get renewed (Trappin')
These n*ggas, they pus*y, want peace but we shoot (They pus*y)
I done lost count, lil' shawty, for all these bands I blew (Cash, racks)
She cuppin' that ass, do a dance or two
So many bands, I left her on mute
So many hundreds, this sh*t get confusing
Never goin' broke, you must be delusional (Stupid)
Ball on they ass, fur coat
Think this sh*t sweet, smoke me a n*gga like a 'Port
Pablo was f*ckin' your ho
I fell asleep, move your head, pour like a four
n*ggas' hand out, talkin' 'bout what they need
Get your broke ass off the floor, uh
Trap beatin', this b*tch jumpin', we 'bout to fall through the floor
Rico just called, say he pullin' up now, somebody go to the door
b*tch bad, ass fat like J-Lo
Can't go broke, I done been there before
Youngin not with the subliminals (Nah)
n*gga get out of line, I'm killin' him