Lyrics:
(Tiga, you whore)
Maybe we get Paul Epworth runnin' the board?
It's just those tan brown creepers, man, how they lie
It's just those tan brown creepers
(Tiga, you whore)
Maybe we get Paul Epworth runnin' the board?
It's just those tan brown creepers, man, how they lie
It's just those tan brown creepers
brown face
Brown leather, brown sugar
Brown leaves, brown keys
Brown creepers, brown face
Black skin, black braids
Black waves, black days
Black
Head so good
Man she blow like a creeper
All browns when I'm leavin' the bank
Never seen a op shop
Cuz they not on my rank
Passed on ur girl
Cuz I bet
of the girls
I just stood there with both my hands tryna rip out
All of my thick brown curls
Looking at the screen in front of me
Talking about it in therapy
creepers cheeba's got me lifted till my brain's gone
Ugly, brown, fat, and I'm broke as hell (grraaa)
But she hit me right back cuz she wanna chill (yea)
staring but
I know they just some creepers
Gave her 500
Told that bitch to order pizza
I'm from the east side
Where them niggas carry heaters
'Rari in
right now I'm think I'm on a anesthesia
Brown girl met her in the gram, she bad as fuck from Indonesia
Late night creeping in a jeep, jeepers creepers
Ricky straight stabbin’ bitches
Brown and 7 inches
Sippin brown and seven minutes In heaven, no hell
Cause I’m goin hardcore breaking backs make that
jeepers, creepers, it's the Sound of the Zeekers x2
Verse 3: Sha-Now
neverlettheysaid I like a tracks
leaders of the new school want the first path
flow
time creeper creepin'
Don't wanna feed my inner demon
I'm goin face to face with the reaper
Baby I really need ya need ya
I don't really need a feature
Marco Chillin wit a Draco
Andre counting up the pasos
85 flow Ochocinco
Nino brown money like I'm neko
Pockets on swole peter griffin
Fuck with my
of creature
Turn your diva to my creeper
Jeepers creepers she get bodied
Playin' my cards, is my hobby
This my world my name not Bobby
90's babies get that
Reaper Creeper, I'm about to slay them peepers
Why would I pay for a feature
I'm bringing you press who you trying to impress
You dissing while I'm
Torture with the super soaker at the Asian liquor store
This the type of shit that make a Chris Brown want to kick a whore
That make songs about the wet
Yep
Yep
Shades over my eyes
Make the creepers look back at themselves
Sitting stuck in emotional bliss
The skinny amount of girls with coke on their
Yep
Yep
Shades over my eyes
Make the creepers look back at themselves
Sitting stuck in emotional bliss
The skinny amount of girls with coke
for the poker
Money turning me green
Like im a ogre
I keep us running
Nigga I'm the motor
My money come in a brown bag
Like this shit was shipped from
sugar
Cincinnati redbones, Chi-town brown pieces
The keeper the ones that make you look great
When you're at the table and other
Bitches come in to hate
without spendin five on somethin
If ya wanna keep ya heart pumpin
Tha downtown, Nino Brown dumpin
Cause I done killed mo' niggas than cancer
Lil B.G. won't
they do it?
I'm tryna figure it out"
Sipping on motor oil, dirty-ass cup
Almost look like brown
We ain't folding at all, gotta stay up
Gotta hold my
they got two faces
You look so different with your makeup on
I can't distinguish between the real and the faker ones
A bunch of creepers in the late
good joe
Creeper on the other side if you thought you would bro
Sleeper chillin in the ride wishing niggas would hoe
Turn up the tempo with this 1
Get
gonna bite down
Don't tell me that you wanna fuck I'm cummin right now
On my hip like a beeper
I don't love her ima freak her
Fenty bitch she a creeper
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