Feds Watchin Lyrics – SOB
Singer: SOB
Title: Feds Watchin
Ah, i’m finna pour a bricky out for all my dead patnas (two hunned)
And just to teach that boy a lesson i’m a leg shot him (gang)
But if i stomp that n#gg# out i’m rocking red bottoms (on mamas)
Watch what i post up on the ‘gram, i heard the feds watchin’
Naw i can’t post no underground i ain’t got nothing to prove (n#gg# nothin’)
Still will slide up on your mans like i ain’t got nothing to lose (n#gg# nothin’)
Get my nut then pull off on her watch me chuck the deuce (deuces)
And sometimes i be waking up and be like, “f#ck the booth” (gang)
Give a f#ck what n#gg#s saying n#gg# shoot something (shoot sum)
That sh#t don’t even sound convincing n#gg# do something (n#gg# do sum)
I only care about my bread n#gg# croutons (croutons)
Twenty bands on me now but i’m two hun’ (two hunned)
You let him speak upon your brothеr you ain’t no friend of mine
I ain’t gon’ f#ck her at thе house we at the renaissance (gang)
Been drinking raw but not too much i probably sip a line
Punch a n#gg# in his jaw that’s what you get for lying
b#tch
Pull a skit in all bape that’s a ape attack
A n#gg# slide though the crest, might not make it back
What the f#ck is ten bands? i play with that
You n#gg#s know when blood shed you can’t take it back
Boy you spent thirty bands on your whole kit (bust down)
b#tch i spent thirty bands on this froze wrist
I’ont even want the puss if ain’t no dough wit’ it
And i don’t wanna buy the glock if ain’t no pole wit’ it
Track 2’s plus i did the vlone wit’ it
I love when she bounce that #ss and touch the floor wit’ it
Might just pull up in the tank like we no limit
I don’t wanna sign no deal i need more chicken (more bands)
I don’t wanna sign no deal i’ll do it to the neck
Don’t need no n#gg# wit’ me get to shooting to the neck
Your b#tch love a n#gg# ’cause i do this sh#t the best
Whip that gleek out and get to shooting like i’m steph
I was playing with this sh#t n#gg# now i’m worth a check
When you get to seven mile and hayes make a left
Lame n#gg# keep on looking i’ma shoot him in his neck
Bad b#tches getting f#cked lame n#gg#s getting pressed
Amiri jeans off the gucci tee this sh#t don’t even match
f#ck these hoes i just wish that i can get my n#gg#s back
This b#tch slapping, how many times i gotta say get the dough?
Big bag, i had to count this sh#t on the kitchen floor
Lying #ss n#gg#s cappin’ over pro tools
Flying in the bentley, drive that b#tch like it’s a old school
If she can bust juggs and count money then she hired
Count so much money last night it had me tired
That p#ss# wasn’t sh#t but i swear the head was fire
Don’t know why we smoking ’cause i swear i can’t get no higher
Got drunk and told the lil’ b#tch i loved her, i was lying
Dog talking choppy, tell him when we catch him we gon’ fry him
That’s a damn thirty
f#ck it i’ma teach my son to shoot like i’m dale curry
I’m outside, i be selling dog but i’m on 12 servers
f#ck her hard but i don’t ever bust, she like them damn perkies
I poured a pint up with daboii
I’m like, “bro just pour up sixes”, i brung ten lines from detroit
Yeah i’m cutting competition, cut the price and giving more
Shh, this exotic’s a commercial
I got lil’ brodie out here throwing ‘bows like kicks and punches
My lil’ n#gg#s only want a jugg, come get this sight from me
I can wear louis for a month ’cause i’m a hyper beast
No i ain’t picking up no jugg i rather trap food
’cause i went and sold four grams worth some track 2’s
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Lyrics SOB – Feds Watchin
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