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lirik lagu feds watchin – sob

[verse 1: daboii]
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*gga 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*gga nothin’)
still will slide up on your mans like i ain’t got nothing to lose (n*gga 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*ggas saying n*gga shoot something (shoot sum)
that sh*t don’t even sound convincing n*gga do something (n*gga do sum)
i only care about my bread n*gga 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*gga in his jaw that’s what you get for lying
b*tch

[verse 2: daboii]
pull a skit in all bape that’s a ape attack
a n*gga slide though the crest, might not make it back
what the f*ck is ten bands? i play with that
you n*ggas 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 p*ss 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 ass 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*gga wit’ me get to shooting to the neck
your b*tch love a n*gga ’cause i do this sh*t the best
whip that gleek out and get to shooting like i’m steph
[verse 3: damjonboi]
i was playing with this sh*t n*gga now i’m worth a check
when you get to seven mile and hayes make a left
lame n*gga keep on looking i’ma shoot him in his neck
bad b*tches getting f*cked lame n*ggas 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*ggas 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 ass n*ggas 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*ssy 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

[verse 4: nuk]
that’s a d*mn 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 d*mn 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
n*ggas think i’m sob by how i ride around with the daboii
shh, this exotic’s a commercial
i got lil’ brodie out here throwing ‘bows like kicks and punches
my lil’ n*ggas 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

- sob

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