Geeza Cypher song by grime cypher from Primary Album Album not found. The music is composed and produced by Joel. Genre is Grime, Rap, Cypher music. The Record company is unknown. Released on March 17, 2023.
The video shared via: Youtube
Geeza Cypher Meaning
| [[Intro: 4cf] Sheesh On some British bullshit, you know You hear me, man? On some crazy ting, you know Man, I feel like Skepta in this bitch Like Jme in this bitch Boy better know (Boy better know) What you mean, what you mean? Ha, ha, ha, ha [Verse 1: 4cf] Layup, put two in his head (Brap) .23 leave a fuck nigga dead .23, we don’t miss ’em, we shoot as his body We gon’ leave that fuck nigga scared Hangin’ out the drop-top Mazi coupe (Yeah) Bitch, I feel like my whip got cut off Yeah, that boy look like a lick so we run off (Yeah) ‘Miri jeans, know I had to get the stunt off (Yeah, yeah) ‘Miri jeans, I’m rockin’ this all-black fit Bitch, you know that I’m fly as a bird Man, I’m different, fuck what you heard (Yеah) Yeah, my shawty stay in the ‘burbs (Stay in the ‘burbs) Yеah, my shawty stay gettin’ mad ’cause I walk out the crib like I do not know anybody One Piece how I hop out the barrel with that muhfuckin’ pistol, gon’ shoot it at everybody And that boy cannot be what I’m on Chopper singin’ like some of my songs (Oh my God) And that boy try to say that he better than me (Yeah, better than me) Shut up, boy, get the fuck on (Yeah) And that boy walkin’ round with no bread in these streets Pockets light as a feather, I been on And I walk out the club, took your bitch home Pockets filled with that breesh, cannot sit down , [Verse 2: Fvtal] One hit wonder, man, that’s what he sit on I got plenty of hits that I been on They say that I’m singin’ too much but this voice a gift like Celine Dion Them men try hop on the wave Get the fuck out my way, KMT, your song’s done out Got me swervin’ the whip like we spinning this track 4cf back to back, they don’t know about that What you know about that? (Woah) When I spit these bars, they gon’ know ’bout that Your girlfriend throwing it back like the ’90s Shot in the back like ex-friends, don’t @ me Go again Freestyle my verse, no pen She want some more, say when Ride on it like Skate 3 times ten [Verse 3: swazy*] Ayy, dirty boy hop in the city like what is the wordy, boy, what we gon’ do I keep a stick loaded like a bitch bloated, muhfucker, might aim at you Yeah, I’m a ugly ass kid with a big ass dick, go ahead, ask your bitch what it do Stop lyin’, girl, tell him the truth I know you like my hair, it reminds you of you So I guess I’m a pretty bitch nowadays, stay gettin’ intimate I’m feelin’ feminine Catch me in clothes that you usually see women in I rap like 50 but look more like Eminem Shoutout my opps ’cause they know I’m still breathin’ In their head I’m dead to them I left ’em deaderson Shoutout to wheaty, that’s fam like the Jeffersons Bruisin’ my skeleton All black fit, walk around like an Enderman , [Verse 4: Yazida] Man, I don’t know what type of shit you’re on It’s just me and my girls and the boys go home Or we leave ’em outside, can you leave us alone? I’m conceited, yeah, I got a reason You know I look way too good to be tryin’ that My bitches look way to cool to be baggin’ that (Huh, yeah) And I’m sayin’ that, yeah, I’m sayin’ that (Yeah, yeah) [Verse 5: billy !] This one for the mandem over the pond, sheesh Send ’em to me and I’ll send ’em to God (Pop) [?] in Detroit, knock on the [?], run through the street Hoes say they love me, yeah Send ’em a tuney, I’m on the Canadian streets, Canadian freaks I got my lady all up in the sheets She actin’ neat, took her to Philly Poppin’ a Perc’, got me all silly TisaKorean just sent me a milli’ Signin’ the paper, said, “Shut up, Billy” Now I’m so under the—, ugh Now I’m so under the weather, ha Now I’m so under the weather, uh She told me that I’m just better, uh She told me that I’m just better, woah She wear it on her sweater, uh COMME des GARÇONS for the winter, uh Arc’teryx on, I’m the winner, uh They all know me, I’m a driller, uh , [Verse 6: Caponeti] Say we can’t do this anymore My heart is on the floor [?] go ’round I’m serious, you can trust me, girl, of course Nina can’t have no skeezer Because when I tell yo’ man that you found another man, he just want my seat, uh Leave him now if you must Dirty up Elon Musk Still the same when I cut, I ain’t give two fucks Never been one to trust Pussy packin’, I roll that shit to dust Bitch, who do you mean? Everybody get one, if he wanna play hero, he could catch a shot to the brain And don’t worry about shots, I got aim Pussy boy, better stay in your lane Oh, we can test you ’bout all of the bullshit you claim Make a fuck nigga hang Put a hole in his head like a bowling ball He losin’ matter, he goin’ insane Why you talk like we brothers? Hell nah, like fuck nigga, you’ll never ever be gang [Interlude: DPF] Yo, this shit is funny as fuck, man, you know I gotta hop on [Verse 7: DPF] The bag comin’ in and you fumble it The bag comin’ in and I run with it Smack my balls right to his head, boy, like I’m playin’ Wimbledon (Uh) I took a gun ’cause she wanna fuck with the team, I just won it Said I’m goin’ up, she see the vision Ballin’ with Zach in a different division Fuck is a Glock? Bitch, I keep me a musket Ain’t aimin’ for head, put that shit through his stomach Pause, I don’t mean it like that But that nigga fat as fuck, he eatin’ the bullets, he love it Make shooter look just like McLovin Call him Ricky the way that he runnin’ [Verse 8: Kurtis & tsuyunoshi] Uppin’ the ante, I’m runnin’ and gettin’ it (Yeah) Too fly, too sick, I’m a better man Talkin’ on me, gotta run up and chef on him Don’t talk if you won’t send the addy (Uh-huh) New bitch on my dick named Maddy If you want smoke, don’t gotta ask Bag of that weed, I be smokin’ that pack Crackin’ me up, but you won’t get a laugh Boy, sit down, don’t stand up Why you beggin’ to me like Santa? (Shh) Always the one to strap up Fish and chip that I got with a Fanta Pure cuisine, laser beam Straight to the dome, give a halo ring If the opps pull up, I’ma make a scene Make a movie now, girl’s football team (Haha, yeah) [Verse 9: tsuyunoshi] Got two skengs on my waist Pull up on the block and I let this shit bang, uh-uh She a bad bitch, she a peng Trappin’ out the ends, bitch, I’m servin’ out the base, uh-uh That lil’ boy is a dork Sip tea in your hood, that’s word to Fordis, uh Paper in my bank account, you still counting up some crumbs You countin’ dollars, bitch, we countin’ pounds Smokin’ Elizabeth, packin’ the crown You is a joker, boy, you is a clown I’m just gonna say, fuck SoundCloud Swear on my life, no gas Turn off the music, your shit is ass Pullin’ up with Zach in Mercedes Benz Paranoid, feelin’ prang All these kids be stealin’ my swag up, gotta put them down Yuh, big tsu on the block, I’m with the dogs, with the hounds, bitch [Verse 10: angelus] In the party he just wanna rump Big boobs and the butt stay plump She a baddie, she know she a ten She a baddie with her baddie friend [?] when I [?] She callin’ my phone like, “Yo, send me a pin” These niggas on bullshit, man, they got me pinned He chasin’ the ho, man, I cannot defend Pull up in the white tee, they got a whitey I hate these niggas, they wanna be like me Forty-seven niggas, they wanna be me I hit up [?], now we hangin’ in [?] Bitch, I’m in London, I need me some nyash Fuck that, man, I need some nyash right now I need me a lengers, that ho a peng And she shakin’ that nyash right now [Verse 11: 47negus] She got big bunda, I’m needin’ a breather She do not roll with the corny ass niggas She kinda look at ya with an expression Of hatred and passion, you just cannot read her She too fancy, need a two-seater Count my guap, lil’ boy need to step up Motherfucker burnin’ out, you need to get much better And I got the sauce, all you niggas playing catch up, bruh I don’t follow ’cause I’m a leader Your lil’ baby my mamacita How the fuck you dress like a geezer? I predict ya ’cause you so see-through Play ball, Cristiano, LaLiga (Ayy) Little brother weak like sativa (Ayy, ayy) Just another week in my vida (Ayy) Swipin’ niggas up, call it Visa (Ayy, ayy) Goofy ass nigga in the strip club, making it rain Usin’ Apple Pay, you pockets lazy, they procrastinate Tutoring people how to get bands and racks and green Get they bank straight, I don’t rap, I educate My baby call me in the club, and that’s another problem (Ayy) ‘Cause now I’m talkin’ to this girl that want Fendi and Prada (Ayy) I told her “shut up”, you ain’t gettin’ nada Chasing the checks and the guala, runnin’ away with the dollars [Verse 12: nezerat] Pita bread with deez Put a man down, get on your knees Put a hands up, hold right there, freeze Knock at the door in threes Fees are due for the one and two For ya man’s gravestone I piss and poo I got no respect for the white man Pecker, chew off ya dick, adieu Subdue, fake news Lying man get the one and two Combo breaker, bread man baker But I’m not Hannah, bitch, that’s you Man shuvit, no fakie Ollie off your grandad’s tooth Man shuvit, no hating Mac spit .380 truth [Verse 13: Yonklolz] Hard to get through it again I’ll break you in the same way I’ll do it every day, day [?] You’re [?] If I was just a halfway Why’d you have to save me? [Verse 14: Fordis] They wanna talk shit over my name [?] straight back to they gang I’m countin’ my pounds, pull that shit out the safe, yeah [?], shut the fuck up We with your queen, bitch, she smokin’ that runtz [?] Dreamybull, I’ma blow up, on gang Countin’ my hunnids and hunnids, just know that I’m pissed off Ain’t got no motion, but flexin’ yo’ Distro Flexin’ yo’ raps and we know that they shit, though (This shit’s fake?) That’s funny I don’t care what the fuck I be sayin’ I just talk in the mic and get paid Hit me up ’cause you think that I’m playin’ You a broke, you a joke, you a lame [Verse 15: Musa] Big butt shakin’, I stare ’cause her ass fat (I stare ’cause her ass fat) I got Perkies and Xans in a big bag (Xans in a big bag) Up and then out of the streets like a lab rat (Yeah, like a lab rat) Walk in the room, smell boof, no gas mask (Boof, no gas mask) Up in the pussy, it’s wetter than Speedos (Wetter than Speedos) This grabba is kickin’ like Flamin’ Hot Cheetos (Yeah, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos) She suckin’ the dick so good, mosquito (Yeah, mosquito) Four Gs in the wood like I’m rollin’ burritos (Yeah, rollin’ burritos) Switch it up (What, what?) And a lil’ bird said that a mandem dead, yeah, it told me so (They told me so) Big stick when I walk, yeah, I roll with poles (Okay) My money got big, that’s fee-fi-fo (Fee-fi-fo) No sweat, 4cf got lazy (Lazy, lazy) Called up angelus, Yazida, swazy* (Yazida, swazy*) Armed and ready for the action, watch me (The action) Do a little math ’cause the numbers crazy (Yeah, the numbers crazy) [Beatbox Outro: tsuyunoshi]] |
Common queries
- Who is the songwriter behind this hit single? Geeza Cypher
Geeza Cypher lyrics is written by 4cf, Fvtal, swazy*, Yazida, billy ! (billyexc), Caponeti, DPF, Kurtis (UK), tsuyunoshi, angelus, 47negus, nezerat, Yonklolz, Fordis & Musa
- Which artist is featured in the credits for Geeza Cypher?
Geeza Cypher is credited as the featured artist on 4cf, Fvtal, swazy*, Yazida, billy ! (billyexc), Caponeti, DPF, Kurtis (UK), tsuyunoshi, angelus, 47negus, nezerat, Yonklolz, Fordis & Musa
