Geekaleek (Remix)

Ayy, uh, E-A-C, ayy
Pull up on the block, I got all dimes Homies in the back throwin' up gang signs
Got a knocka that rock, call it true Crime You got a full plate, why you worried bout mines UGH
Ain't worried bout a bitch, it mean none Gold in your mouth, but it ain't no trophy, son
Your bitch taste me like I'm five gum Yeah, I knew you was broke, flexin' all ones
You a buster, seen it comin' pillow talkin' track star the way your lips runnin
N-W-A, yeah, I'm always into somethin' then be you, Mr. Always Be Frontin
One op, two op, three, four, five You a capper, so why you go lyin' on mines
I don't launch your bitch, she ain't better than mine
You can put me in the dark, and I'm still gon' shine

Old punk bitch, twig bitch, shoulda, coulda, woulda bitch
One bitch, two bitch, doodle bop lookin' bitch Flexin' that 40, but ain't finna shoot shit
Pull up on you, peekaboo bitch Talkin' my shit, and you know what I'm gon' do
Ain't with the internet shit, like y'all dudes Same ones who talk that mess, gon' show you
Be the same ones on Twitter that don't shoot