Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song FBI, artist - The Shadows.
Date of issue: 25.03.2015
Song language: English
FBI |
Artist: Dayton Family |
Album: F.B.I |
Song: F.B.I |
(Shoestring) |
I’m wakin up in the mornin, with problems on my mind |
Motherfuck the education and drug rebilitation |
I’m smokin on that weed and the green is gettin tasty |
Dead feds in my closet cause they tried to chase me |
November the 29th, I bust open my mommas cock |
Pussy ho addicted to drinking, now I’m addicted to crack rock |
So motherfuck you bitches and you snitches tryin to do me in |
Police in disguises, and he tries to buy Peruvian |
Knockin at my fuckin door, duckin and dodgin on that floor |
That oopin got you noid', got me reachin' for my forty-four |
Creepin up out my window pane, I smell cops |
A honkey on the block, drop to my knee, I took a shot |
I seen him drop, one time this ain’t the place for that |
Since he’s a fed, I took off his face for that |
That shit that he tried to pull |
You know he couldn’t get away with this |
Bitch I’m a time bomb, time, so don’t you play with this |
Fuck being indicted, don’t you try it that’s the fuckin story |
Cops roll to the cemetary, ain’t no snitches in my laboratory |
I’m fittin to stir it, rock it up, so where’s my silver spoon |
I put my yea out on the block, and all you hear is boom |
This is my set, so you can jet, or get that sweater wet |
A fed is bloody, he’s been wounded by a fucking tech |
Rat tat to the tat tat, I’m a take him out of his misery |
For ridin my nuts and tryin to stick me with delivery |
Loose lips, sink ships, so this is do or die |
This is a letter from Shoestring to the F.B.I |
Backstabbers gone, so I guess you dirty cops are clean |
You took a father from their family, motherfuck their dreams |
Is what you said, so motherfucking bitch ass fed |
I want you dead, I’m gonna pump your ass full of lead |
Let’s make a deal, this shit is real, ill |
I pack my steel, you let him go |
Then we can let you live, you made that switch |
And now it’s time to kill you bitch |
Give you an overdose of bullets, and put you in a ditch |
Drug dealers and fed killers, lets get united |
Boom holes on them hoes, scream fuck being indicted |
(Bootleg) |
Motherfuck the F.B.I., bitches I’m prepared to die |
XXXXXXX’s back on my dick, cause I won’t slang his drug supply |
Jail ain’t never scared me none, fuck the feds and vice cops too |
Distribution of cocaine, is that all y’all can come with dude |
Bitches betta think, fast find yourself a better snitch |
Cause that bitch you got smoke rocks |
So that mean her word ain’t shit |
If I get some prison time, give me mine, cause I ain’t fake |
Since my clique don’t snitch |
When I get out all my connections is straight |
The journal keeps my name in lights, entrapment to the third degree |
Before my trial can come, the newspaper want to sentence me |
Bitch Bootlegs prepared to go, you’ll never get this chance again |
Gotta call my auntie, they want your nephew in the pen |
Bitch we ain’t no kin, fuck that smilin I ain’t in that mood |
Bringin the indictment papers, eatin on my grandmother’s food |
Bitch you know that’s rude, attitude is to the third degree |
Send me to penetentiary, come out that bitch a straight up G |
Never been a busta, always been a hustla |
Sellin yea, came up bustin caps |
So we could deal this dime out where I stay |
Out to make my pay, and sellin yea the only way I know |
Fiends around the block, soon as I open up my rock house door |
Gotta make some more, I’m droppin eighth-ies on that digital scale |
More popular than Taco Bell, taco shells, couldn’t make these sales |
Motherfuckin bitch, I want a key, give me that uncut raw |
Shit’ll numb your jaw, the best cocaine these crackheads ever saw |
Your momma’s eyes are big again, everytime she smokes |
She plots, since I wouldn’t give her no rock |
She sending the federal government in my spot |
Conspiracy and distribution, drop some grip so I can fight it |
Free again to sell dope, bitch fuck being indicted |