Fever
I got that Fever
They like it I know this I'm psychic
When I'm out in public they all on my privates
Low key I'm thrown
Low key I'm cold
Low key I'm platinum if these records get sold
R-R-Records ever get sold Records ever get sold
Low key I'm Chamberlain these records never get old
That hundo' percent
Five hundo' for rent
When I'm paid out forget what that five hundo' ment
Fever I got it bad
Get a little bit of that swag, bit of that sag
Bit of that got you mad
Get a little hit of ass
Bit a little bit of gas
Bit of that flame
Give her that players bit of that game
Tell that chick to get rid of that lane
Ask that chick what she thank and I'm that guy where you been?
I'mma leave my boys with your friends
Yeah that's fine
Used to ask now I say whats on my mind
Like "Come over girl I've been known to get faded of of wine"
She said "Let me feel your head that's a fever every time"
Man down
I'm throwing up
Nobody put your hands down it's a hold up
I'm hella' hot
Can't come close to a kid like me
But you can get it front row get high see
Get High G-Get high
Get High G-Get high
Get High G-Get high
It just might be that fever
I'm messed up
They newly faded fresh cut
My team the on deck circle man we next up
Mid west I get it
Detroit I might fit it
Mid west that's my shit
Nobody messin' with it
Two of them make one of me CEO of my company
R.E.F.S. Rich Early Fuck Stress
Real shit don't ask chose
Don't approach with no ass Woah
Not normally like this but that fever make me an asshole
Oh my damn though
They love me all on that channel
Got that rap game on that other shit I'm milking it with no cattle
Keep that flame on with no candle
Ri-Ride the B with no handle
She want to ri-ri-rid with no saddle
She said "Hit it boy with no paddle"
Dang
I'm doing something right I ain't
Moved out of that neighborhood but I ain't changing the name
Specto till I die Spectros they fly
Get you over them exchos got nexchoes on my mind
Man down
I'm throwing up
Nobody put your hands down it's a hold up
I'm hella' hot
Can't come close to a kid like me
But you can get it front row get high see
Get High G-Get high
Get High G-Get high
Get High G-Get high
It just might be that fever
They like it I know this I'm psychic
When I'm out in public they all on my privates
Low key I'm thrown
Low key I'm cold
Low key I'm platinum if these records get sold
R-R-Records ever get sold Records ever get sold
Low key I'm Chamberlain these records never get old
That hundo' percent
Five hundo' for rent
When I'm paid out forget what that five hundo' ment
Fever I got it bad
Get a little bit of that swag, bit of that sag
Bit of that got you mad
Get a little hit of ass
Bit a little bit of gas
Bit of that flame
Give her that players bit of that game
Tell that chick to get rid of that lane
Ask that chick what she thank and I'm that guy where you been?
I'mma leave my boys with your friends
Yeah that's fine
Used to ask now I say whats on my mind
Like "Come over girl I've been known to get faded of of wine"
She said "Let me feel your head that's a fever every time"
Man down
I'm throwing up
Nobody put your hands down it's a hold up
I'm hella' hot
Can't come close to a kid like me
But you can get it front row get high see
Get High G-Get high
Get High G-Get high
Get High G-Get high
It just might be that fever
I'm messed up
They newly faded fresh cut
My team the on deck circle man we next up
Mid west I get it
Detroit I might fit it
Mid west that's my shit
Nobody messin' with it
Two of them make one of me CEO of my company
R.E.F.S. Rich Early Fuck Stress
Real shit don't ask chose
Don't approach with no ass Woah
Not normally like this but that fever make me an asshole
Oh my damn though
They love me all on that channel
Got that rap game on that other shit I'm milking it with no cattle
Keep that flame on with no candle
Ri-Ride the B with no handle
She want to ri-ri-rid with no saddle
She said "Hit it boy with no paddle"
Dang
I'm doing something right I ain't
Moved out of that neighborhood but I ain't changing the name
Specto till I die Spectros they fly
Get you over them exchos got nexchoes on my mind
Man down
I'm throwing up
Nobody put your hands down it's a hold up
I'm hella' hot
Can't come close to a kid like me
But you can get it front row get high see
Get High G-Get high
Get High G-Get high
Get High G-Get high
It just might be that fever
Credits
Writer(s): Patrick Duda, Matthew Duda
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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