Mad Lyrics – Fella
Singer: Fella
Title: Mad
Dead sleep, hit my n#gg# he gon’ creep
No questions asked send the text, we gon’ link
Balenciaga mask and the tech got a beam
Sittin’ dorks on they #ss, ain’t no threats come for me
We really from the streets, all my n#gg#s bound to eat
And by all, i mean three, that won’t ever take a plea
If you want us, come with facts
Yeah we got straps, lil baby got it legally tucked in her bag
So if n#gg#s want funk, i ain’t passin’ up on that that
Just reach in the chanel and pick off a few rats
Slither to the trap and pick up a few bags
Then wiggle to the crib until i hear 12 pass
I know you n#gg#s mad
I know you n#gg#s mad
I know you n#gg#s mad
But i ain’t goin’ back, y’all gon’ gеt over that
I know you n#gg#s mad
I know you n#gg#s mad
I know you n#gg#s mad
But i ain’t goin’ back, y’all gon’ get over that
What’s thе answer? tell me what’s the answer?
How i’m ‘posed to make it when the city full of cancer?
Tryna make a living off my style and my banter
But side-stepping phony n#gg#s turned me to a dancer
Fresh up out the pound, got me questioning my dog life
All my n#gg#s hounds, go to war about my dawg life
Always fitted, got my wrist drippin’, i got frostbite
Seen pretty women leave, she may have left but she walk right
Drama in my neighborhood, gotta go resolve it
Fake n#gg#s talk the talk, so i gotta walk it
Started gettin’ paper, stopped caring what the cost is
That’s why i turned the ralph lauren store into my closet
Quit my day job, had to go and start bossin’
Fly sh#t only, i don’t know what lacoste is
Gotta push the boundaries, ain’t no one gettin’ boxed in
They’ll turn your full house into a cell, lori loughlin
Lil baby looked down and the buckle five bands
Told her that ain’t sh#t, it was eight for the pants
But quit all that talkin’, it ain’t part of the plan
She gave me sucky face, i ain’t even wanna blam
I passed her to my mans, and peeped she a goer
Under one week i was able to hoe her
She ran me a check before i even got to know her
Shorty slipped up, said her brother was a grower
I need ten packs, i got the cash when you come over
We posted at the corner, n#gg# i don’t live here
But i’m pickin’ peers off for the bucks like john deere
You live or eat, n#gg# i don’t even care
I’ll send your mom some flowers and a card that’s sincere
I ain’t wanna kill her son, but it is what it is
I know you n#gg#s mad
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Lyrics Fella – Mad
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