Now every day can feel as awesome as the weekend with the Laundry Room Freakin Weekend Distressed Grey Muscle Tee! Ultra soft and lightweight grey knit has plenty of acid wash-like details and celebrates in style with 'Freakin Weekend Baby' printed front and center. Plenty of distressing on the rounded neckline, extra long arm openings with raw, unfinished edges, and around the bottom hem gives this muscle tee the lived-in look that you love. Model is 5'11' and is wearing a one size fits most. 60% Cotton, 40% Polyester. Machine Wash Warm. Similar Looks. Kelly “Freakin’ Weekend” T-Shirt, a custom product made just for you by Teespring. Sims 2 super collection mac free. With world-class production and customer support, your satisfaction is guaranteed. - Cyber Monday Limited Edition: Official R. Now, um, usually I don't do this but uh. Go head' on and break em off wit a lil' preview of the remix. No I'm not trying to be rude, But hey pretty girl I'm feeling you The way you do the things you do Reminds me of my Lexus coupe That's why I'm all up in yo grill Tryina get you to a hotel You must be a football coach The way you got me playing the field So baby gimme that toot toot Lemme give you that beep beep Running her hands through my 'fro Bouncing on 24's While they say on the radio. It's the remix to ignition Hot and fresh out the kitchen Mama rolling that body got every man in here wishing Sipping on coke and rum I'm like so what I'm drunk It's the freaking weekend baby I'm about to have me some fun Bounce Bounce Bounce Bounce Bounce Bounce Bounce Bounce Bounce Bounce Now it's like murder she wrote Once I get you out them clothes Privacy is on the door Still they can hear you screaming more Girl I'm feeling what you feeling No more hoping and wishing I'm bout to take my key and Stick it in the ignition. Its The Freakin Weekend SongSo baby gimme that toot toot Lemme give you that beep beep Running her hands through my 'fro Bouncing on 24's While they say on the radio. ![]() Freakin Weekend Lyrics![]() Freakin WeekendYoungsters and mature audiences alike crowded the Supper Club and watched as Chris Denney and his Jets nursed the audience's collective weekend hangover with their personal brand of rock ’n' roll, delivering humanist songs about abusing pain pills, beating up wives and simply being a killing machine because the devil told him to do so. The mellow-then-insistent guitar-driven jams reignited fires in hearts, and the beats commanded every body to move.
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