Federal
Haha
Ha (yeah, ayy, yo Drum, play that bitch one more) One more
Face shots to the face, don't trip on yo' lace
Gang, gang
When we start off, we start off with the posse (start off with the posse)
The driver, he gon' get it next, then we whack him (all right, all right)
We up the score (go) every time y'all up the score, nigga, add it up
I see how all these rappers dickriding, they keeping up (they keeping up)
I done got rich as hell (I'm rich as hell), I know they mad as fuck (fuck)
Now they love on clientele, we spin the block, can't fuck with us (can't fuck with us)
Hold on, pick him up (hold on), I don't think he can get up (yeah, yeah, fuck)
Push up on 'em, let the window down, watch the whole car freeze up (it freeze up)
Her ass up, her knees down, face forward, let me fuck (let me fuck)
These niggas been rapping more than ten years, still ain't came up (still ain't came up)
Your shorties got knocked, they tryna blame us (they tryna blame us)
Time to fuck with them, made them lil' fuck niggas famous (made them niggas famous)
He got blood all on his wifebeater, now that fuck nigga brainless
He was unidentified, nah, they can't even name him
He made a left, I bust a right, I'm tryna hit him from a angle (hit him from a angle)
I had told them to wait, I'ma fucking put some pain to 'em (I'ma fucking put some pain to 'em), haha
Trolls questioning me 'bout shooters (they questioning me 'bout shooters)
Never told 'em shit, you know how I do it (fuck)
If I did, I would've been locked up, is you fucking stupid? (From my cell)
I'm beefing with some of my brothers 'cause they wanna be groupies ('cause they wanna be hoe), haha
Juvenile, I was in the 'Nile (I was in the 'Nile)
I'ma keep pushing these court dates, yeah, I'ma take it to trial (I'ma take it to trial)
Them .308s sound like 808's, you hit him, them bitches loud
Reach for any chain on the stage, we gon' shoot out in the crowd (shoot it down)
Wockiana all in my cup, it taste like Kool-Aid (taste like Kool-Aid)
Dropped a four in the Fanta, I like how it taste (I like how it taste)
Mix it up, don't know which one I'ma drank today (which one I'ma drank today)
Switch it up, don't know which glick that I'ma tote today (I don't know what I'ma tote today)
Shooting shit up, right before we turn off from the 'e-Way (turn off from the 'e-way)
Lord forgive, I'm finna send this nigga to another place (I send him to the grave)
Throw that bag on him, lil' bro' smash on him (go)
Dropped a bag on him (go), that's yo' ass on him (yo' ass on him)
That's they money on my head
Pop my collar, I'm too smooth for this shit like Uncle Sted (like Uncle Sted)
"Hop in this bitch, go federal"
I think that's what the money bag said (I think that's what the bag said)
I think that's what the bag said
I think that's just what the bag said
Ha (yeah, ayy, yo Drum, play that bitch one more) One more
Face shots to the face, don't trip on yo' lace
Gang, gang
When we start off, we start off with the posse (start off with the posse)
The driver, he gon' get it next, then we whack him (all right, all right)
We up the score (go) every time y'all up the score, nigga, add it up
I see how all these rappers dickriding, they keeping up (they keeping up)
I done got rich as hell (I'm rich as hell), I know they mad as fuck (fuck)
Now they love on clientele, we spin the block, can't fuck with us (can't fuck with us)
Hold on, pick him up (hold on), I don't think he can get up (yeah, yeah, fuck)
Push up on 'em, let the window down, watch the whole car freeze up (it freeze up)
Her ass up, her knees down, face forward, let me fuck (let me fuck)
These niggas been rapping more than ten years, still ain't came up (still ain't came up)
Your shorties got knocked, they tryna blame us (they tryna blame us)
Time to fuck with them, made them lil' fuck niggas famous (made them niggas famous)
He got blood all on his wifebeater, now that fuck nigga brainless
He was unidentified, nah, they can't even name him
He made a left, I bust a right, I'm tryna hit him from a angle (hit him from a angle)
I had told them to wait, I'ma fucking put some pain to 'em (I'ma fucking put some pain to 'em), haha
Trolls questioning me 'bout shooters (they questioning me 'bout shooters)
Never told 'em shit, you know how I do it (fuck)
If I did, I would've been locked up, is you fucking stupid? (From my cell)
I'm beefing with some of my brothers 'cause they wanna be groupies ('cause they wanna be hoe), haha
Juvenile, I was in the 'Nile (I was in the 'Nile)
I'ma keep pushing these court dates, yeah, I'ma take it to trial (I'ma take it to trial)
Them .308s sound like 808's, you hit him, them bitches loud
Reach for any chain on the stage, we gon' shoot out in the crowd (shoot it down)
Wockiana all in my cup, it taste like Kool-Aid (taste like Kool-Aid)
Dropped a four in the Fanta, I like how it taste (I like how it taste)
Mix it up, don't know which one I'ma drank today (which one I'ma drank today)
Switch it up, don't know which glick that I'ma tote today (I don't know what I'ma tote today)
Shooting shit up, right before we turn off from the 'e-Way (turn off from the 'e-way)
Lord forgive, I'm finna send this nigga to another place (I send him to the grave)
Throw that bag on him, lil' bro' smash on him (go)
Dropped a bag on him (go), that's yo' ass on him (yo' ass on him)
That's they money on my head
Pop my collar, I'm too smooth for this shit like Uncle Sted (like Uncle Sted)
"Hop in this bitch, go federal"
I think that's what the money bag said (I think that's what the bag said)
I think that's what the bag said
I think that's just what the bag said
Credits
Writer(s): Tevin Revell, Nehemiah Harden
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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