With Me

By Brooke Candy

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[Intro: Brooke Candy]

Uh, uh


[Verse 1: Brooke Candy]

I want, I want, I want a D-boy villain, cold game killing

Ms. Candy, if you nasty, pipe game illing

Gimme poom-poom feeling, honey pot, hot drilling

Bareback on some benji stacked half to the ceiling like, "Ooh"

Come in here, let me put it on you

Show me what your magic stick can do

Tell me everything that you into

'Cause I'ma give it to ya


[Pre-Chorus: Brooke Candy]

Boy, I think you freaky, how you want it, Mr. Dicky?

Come on, lick it 'til it's squeaky, thinkin' 'bout it got me leaky

Got me gushy for the cookie, he don't want it from no rookie

When he get up in the nookie he like, "Brookey, Brookey, Brookey"


[Chorus: LIZ]

Even if you had no paper, sippin' on the cheap champagne

I would love every hangover if it meant you were with me

Rather be in your scraper than sittin' first class on a plane

I would love every traffic jam if it meant you were with me


[Post-Chorus: Brooke Candy]

I need a Iggy, I need a Nicki

A bad bitch to get me off the Pretty Ricky

I need a Miley, or a Britney

Or a Beyoncé for a quicky


[Verse 2: Brooke Candy]

Okay, tongue game strong, I be workin' (I be workin')

Girl, the way I kiss the kitty have you twerkin' (Have you twerkin')

We got your man so hard that he hurtin' (That he hurtin')

He said he'd only wanna watch, but now he jerkin' (But now he jerkin')

Well, okay

Y'all ain't know that Brookey Brooke was so cray

When they hear this shit, the fuck they gon' say?

I'm too wild for the radio to play (That's real)

But I'ma give it to 'em


[Pre-Chorus: Brooke Candy]

Boy, I think you freaky, how you want it, Mr. Dicky?

Come on, lick it 'til it's squeaky, thinkin' 'bout it got me leaky

Got me gushy for the cookie, he don't want it from no rookie

When he get up in the nookie he like, "Brookey, Brookey, Brookey"


[Chorus: LIZ]

Even if you had no paper, sippin' on the cheap champagne

I would love every hangover if it meant you were with me

Rather be in your scraper than sittin' first class on a plane

I would love every traffic jam if it meant you were with me


[Bridge: LIZ]

Nobody cares your kiss is worth a million bucks

Ballin' out, we drinkin' out of plastic cups

Somebody crashin' at a parking lot motel

Feels like home, I don't know how you do so well

Mirror on our phone

It's the real deal, gangsta love


[Chorus: LIZ]

Even if you had no paper, sippin' on the cheap champagne

I would love every hangover if it meant you were with me

Rather be in your scraper than sittin' first class on a plane

I would love every traffic jam if it meant you were with me