Il Testo della canzone di:
Fukkk Da Feds – Fat Trel
I said I woke up in the morning and I gave that bitch some head,
Then I count that bank, I got lots of bread.
Money in my bed, I got lots of bread,
I got lots of bread, I got lots of bread, I got lots of bread.
Last time she see me I was ducking face, told that bitch to hide me, I know that bitch was scared.
Money in my bed, motherfucker feds, motherfucker feds, motherfucker feds.
Motherfucker feds, I could get locked up again,
I got it in my hands, click-clack and I'm spread
Make sure that I leave you land, then shoot up your man,
A hundred grands in my pants, don't reach for it again,
Now I'm a shoot off your hands, study boys, I be with them
I be in your face with them, I begin your feast with them,
I be told that he with them, does he sound like he with them
In bullets I'm leaving him, he said that he blowing glizzeis, I know that he freez with them.
Study boys and glowy boys that's DC to J loys
When they talk shit, we kill 'em boys, carry guns back, they chillin' boys
We kill 'em, boy, you kill the noise, straight headshot, we kill 'em boys
You wanna get in touch, bullets filling, boy, smuggle all out, can't hear it, boy.
I wake up getting hit, take love under my bed, running round, double trade,
I leave a nigga dead, if you find it with my bread and all my door ahead
I never talk to feds put down on my man.
I woke up in the morning and I gave that bitch some head,
Then I count that bank, I got lots of bread.
Money in my bed, I got lots of bread,
I got lots of bread, I got lots of bread, I got lots of bread.
Last time she see me I was ducking face, told that bitch to hide me, I know that bitch was scared.
Money in my bed, motherfucker feds, motherfucker feds, motherfucker feds.
Slutty boys and GBE who running back in feds,
I got thirty in my pocket, I probably pop at your head
Get some stripper bitches in my bed, yo.
Craziest thing about this life is that I should be dead,
Fuck it, though, I ain't never scared, bitch, we're out now,
When you get high with GBE it be no coming down
I made your bitch eat my bitch pussy 'cause I run shit,
Just look who I'm running with, a hundred clip, three hundred shit,
Fag glish, I keep hitting and I pray you stay awake
In the south- east on a couch, sleep, or I might be on south beach
Either way, count many cake, steak is stripping my dinner plate
Run a rib just to get away, start late, finish late,
But fuck that, I'm successing, I'm upset 'cause you suspect
You got wits got locked up, went bankrupt, what's next?
I know where I go, get strapped up in that tight hole,
Me don't mean on be streeting, AJ on Pablo.
I said I woke up in the morning and I gave that bitch some head,
Then I count that bank, I got lots of bread.
Money in my bed, I got lots of bread,
I got lots of bread, I got lots of bread, I got lots of bread.
Last time she see me I was ducking face, told that bitch to hide me, I know that bitch was scared.
Money in my bed, motherfucker feds, motherfucker feds, motherfucker feds.
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