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G Nikes Video (MV)




Performed By: Nardo Wick
Language: English
Length: 3:14
Written by: Andrew Roettger, Horace Walls, Tarus Bartlett




Nardo Wick - G Nikes Lyrics
Official




Wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked
Wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, yeah, yeah
Wicked, I'm wicked, uh, uh, uh, uh (Ayy V, light 'em up)

Skinny jeans, white tee, G Nikes, Glock
Wanna meet Jesus? Be my opp
She don't speak English, she speak gawk
Said she wasn't hungry, she still ate my cock

I ain't gay but fell love in with Benjamins (fell in love)
She say, "Nardo, daddy, you taste just like cinnamon" (you taste good, ayy)
I forget her name, I'ma call her "Ceiling Fan" ('cause she blow me good)
Baby, he lied to you, that boy has never killed a man (never killed no man)
One step, two step, three steps, stomp (stomp)
Diss me, swerve, swerve, pull up, dump
They say it was regular, until I shot, now he support Trump (hat red)
See that boy in traffic, blow at him
Ain't talkin' 'bout a hump (ain't talkin' 'bout no f*ckin' hump)
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, ayy (ayy)
FN, Glock Nine's, ARs, k (yeah)
Kick door, hands up, walk too safe
Why would I aim it at his body and that boy got a face?
Why would I aim it at his body and that boy got a head?
I'm tryna shoot this same shot, I'm tryna leave 'em dead
I told you I know magic, turn his white shirt red
I'm a natural savage, I don't need no meds
"Lil' Wick ain't on shit," who the f*ck had said? (who the f*ck said that?)
Tell him, "Come this way," I bet I leave his ass dead
Tell him, "Come this way," I bet I rearrange his head
Tell him, "Come this way," I bet I-, spread

Skinny jeans, white tee, G Nikes, Glock
Wanna meet Jesus? Be my opp
She don't speak English, she speak gawk
Said she wasn't hungry, she still ate my cock
Skinny jeans, white tee, G Nikes, Glock
Wanna meet Jesus? Be my opp
She don't speak English, she speak gawk
Said she wasn't hungry, she still ate my cock

We hit your party, guard your bitch (ha)
In here turnt with Nardo Wick (bitch)
Pop out, slide, spark your blick (boom, boom)
High speed left a Narco sick (skrrt)
F*ck my opps, they not on shit (bitch)
Punt his head, this Glock gon' kick (boom, boom)
Bro saw red and shot more Bricks
He got hot, he not gon' miss
Tryna but they own block in the blunt
Bad intentions when cockin' this pump
Leave him red top like he honorin' Trump
Killers all in that car, here we come
He like to front on the net like he gangsta
I know the real, you actually soft (you a bitch)
Four nickel knock off your head when we kill you
Just 'cause you niggas be cappin' it off (boom)
He play with us, then we knock out his brains
I'm tryna see what he actually thought (ha)
Bro call me when he score for the gang
He torched an opp, he was happy he caught (gang, gang)
Trench got the blick, then your life is in danger
Hole in one, like he practicin' golf (brrt, baow)
I know they hate that I'm gettin' this paper
Right to the bank, I be laughin' it off, bitch (ha)

Skinny jeans, white tee, G Nikes, Glock
Wanna meet Jesus? Be my opp
She don't speak English, she speak gawk
Said she wasn't hungry, she still ate my cock
Skinny jeans, white tee, G Nikes, Glock
Wanna meet Jesus? Be my opp
She don't speak English, she speak gawk
Said she wasn't hungry, she still ate my cock
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


English

Wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked
Wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, I'm wicked, yeah, yeah
Wicked, I'm wicked, uh, uh, uh, uh (Ayy V, light 'em up)

Skinny jeans, white tee, G Nikes, Glock
Wanna meet Jesus? Be my opp
She don't speak English, she speak gawk
Said she wasn't hungry, she still ate my cock

I ain't gay but fell love in with Benjamins (fell in love)
She say, "Nardo, daddy, you taste just like cinnamon" (you taste good, ayy)
I forget her name, I'ma call her "Ceiling Fan" ('cause she blow me good)
Baby, he lied to you, that boy has never killed a man (never killed no man)
One step, two step, three steps, stomp (stomp)
Diss me, swerve, swerve, pull up, dump
They say it was regular, until I shot, now he support Trump (hat red)
See that boy in traffic, blow at him
Ain't talkin' 'bout a hump (ain't talkin' 'bout no f*ckin' hump)
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, ayy (ayy)
FN, Glock Nine's, ARs, k (yeah)
Kick door, hands up, walk too safe
Why would I aim it at his body and that boy got a face?
Why would I aim it at his body and that boy got a head?
I'm tryna shoot this same shot, I'm tryna leave 'em dead
I told you I know magic, turn his white shirt red
I'm a natural savage, I don't need no meds
"Lil' Wick ain't on shit," who the f*ck had said? (who the f*ck said that?)
Tell him, "Come this way," I bet I leave his ass dead
Tell him, "Come this way," I bet I rearrange his head
Tell him, "Come this way," I bet I-, spread

Skinny jeans, white tee, G Nikes, Glock
Wanna meet Jesus? Be my opp
She don't speak English, she speak gawk
Said she wasn't hungry, she still ate my cock
Skinny jeans, white tee, G Nikes, Glock
Wanna meet Jesus? Be my opp
She don't speak English, she speak gawk
Said she wasn't hungry, she still ate my cock

We hit your party, guard your bitch (ha)
In here turnt with Nardo Wick (bitch)
Pop out, slide, spark your blick (boom, boom)
High speed left a Narco sick (skrrt)
F*ck my opps, they not on shit (bitch)
Punt his head, this Glock gon' kick (boom, boom)
Bro saw red and shot more Bricks
He got hot, he not gon' miss
Tryna but they own block in the blunt
Bad intentions when cockin' this pump
Leave him red top like he honorin' Trump
Killers all in that car, here we come
He like to front on the net like he gangsta
I know the real, you actually soft (you a bitch)
Four nickel knock off your head when we kill you
Just 'cause you niggas be cappin' it off (boom)
He play with us, then we knock out his brains
I'm tryna see what he actually thought (ha)
Bro call me when he score for the gang
He torched an opp, he was happy he caught (gang, gang)
Trench got the blick, then your life is in danger
Hole in one, like he practicin' golf (brrt, baow)
I know they hate that I'm gettin' this paper
Right to the bank, I be laughin' it off, bitch (ha)

Skinny jeans, white tee, G Nikes, Glock
Wanna meet Jesus? Be my opp
She don't speak English, she speak gawk
Said she wasn't hungry, she still ate my cock
Skinny jeans, white tee, G Nikes, Glock
Wanna meet Jesus? Be my opp
She don't speak English, she speak gawk
Said she wasn't hungry, she still ate my cock
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Andrew Roettger, Horace Walls, Tarus Bartlett
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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