Fukkk Da Feds

Lyrics

[Chorus: Fat Trel] I say I woke up in the mornin' And I gave my bitch some head Then I count that bag I got lots of bread Money in my bed I got lots of bread x3 Last time she seen me I was duckin' feds Told that bitch to hide me I know that bitch was scared Money in my bed Motherfuck the feds x3 [Verse 1: Chief Keef] Motherfuck the feds I can't get locked up again But if I got it in my hands Click clack then I'm sprayin' Make sure that I leave you layin' Then shoot up your mans Hundred grand in my pants Don't reach for it again Know I'ma shoot off your hands Slutty Boyz I be with them I be getting on feats with them I be totin' heat with them Then sit down and feast with them Them bullets I leave in him If he say that he blowin' glizzy's I know that he freeze with them Bitch Slutty Boyz and Glory Boyz That's D.C. to Drillinois We ain't talkin' shit We kill them boys Cockin' guns back Then drillin' boys You ain't killin' boys You killin' noise Straight head shots We kill them boys Wanna get in touch Bullets fill them boys Smokin' loud packs Can't hear them boys I wake up gettin' head TEC live under my bed Hundred rounds double tread I leave a nigga dead If he fuckin' with my bread And on my daughter head I ain't never talked to feds Put that on my mans [Chorus: Fat Trel] I say I woke up in the mornin' And I gave my bitch some head Then I count that bag I got lots of bread Money in my bed I got lots of bread x3 Last time she seen me I was duckin' feds Told that bitch to hide me I know that bitch was scared Money in my bed Motherfuck the feds x3 [Verse 2: Fat Trel] Slutty Boyz and GBE we runnin' duckin' feds I got 30 in my pocket I probably pop at ya head doe Yeah ho keep some stripper bitches in my bed doe Crazy thing about this life is that I should be dead doe But fuck it doe I ain't never scared bitch we up now When you get high with GBE it be no comin' down I make your bitch eat my bitch pussy cause I run shit Just look who I'm runnin' with A hundred clip 3hunna shit Fat Gleesh I keep heat and I pray you stay away I'm in SouthEast on the couch asleep or I might be on South Beach Either way countin' plenty cake Steak and shrimp on my dinner plate Rental whip just to get away Start late finish late But fuck that I'm success And I'm upset cause you suspect You got rich got locked up Went bankrupt what's next I know where I go get strapped up in that Tahoe Meet me on P Street in AG I'm Pablo [Chorus: Fat Trel] I say I woke up in the mornin' And I gave my bitch some head Then I count that bag I got lots of bread Money in my bed I got lots of bread x3 Last time she seen me I was duckin' feds Told that bitch to hide me I know that bitch was scared Money in my bed Motherfuck the feds x3