| Whenever we meet
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| Out on the street
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| Good for him
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| He’s gutta… gutta…gutta…gutta
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| I’m so gutta, gutta, gutta, I gotta duck them crackers
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| Pussy niggas they hack us tryna get me into those shackles
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| Tell 'em just send 'em at me I’m shooting at em like AK’s
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| Favorite movies is action I FedEx them like a package
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| Bullet holes in your cucumber turn yo ass into a salad
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| Finna rally them goons and they muthafuckin into my cab
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| Hundred mounts and I’m climbin' I speeded that automatic
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| And I’m wishin' I’m dyin' and half a brick in my baggage
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| Gutta, gutta, gutta, gotta shake them off
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| Hundred stacks in my seats and banana clip on the mouth
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| Put my life on the line, I’m 95 headed south
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| Catch this dude if you can, I told you what I’m about
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| (gutta, gutta, g-g-gutta…)
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| Gotta keep it hood, wish that would be my enemy
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| (Good for him, he’s gutta)
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| I keep it G-U-T-T-A to the enemy
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| (gutta, gutta, g-g-gutta…)
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| Gotta keep it hood, know I’m good when I’m in the streets
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| (Good for him, he’s gutta)
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| I keep it G-U-T-T-A until I D-I-E
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| And I keep them lands, that pistol sharpen your head
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| Get your block with that chopper I know that they want me dead
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| Tell them cats if they want me come see me, Satan with dreads
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| How the hell he get away, as I middle finger the feds (Fuck 'em)
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| Back, back, back, with that automatic
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| It’s screaming havoc for crackers to spring and bounce like a mattress
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| Rat-tat-tat, now I’m laughing, you bastards, here go your package
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| Special order, you sign it, in blood puddles you have it
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| Tell them feddies I’m laughing, now kill me if they imagine
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| Ace Hood, I’m packin' and bustin' good, I’m swaggin'
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| With the premonition of murder, I sleep with the burner piece
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| And I’m gone, gone, gone, gotta get this money
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| Half a mil in the Pontiac, even sheets of them hundreds
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| Drop 'em, stop 'em my house them deep in my stomach
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| Misdemeanor no option but 20 plus what they pumpin'
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| Life in the peniten gonna take me away from my Benz
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| Take me away from my ends, can’t picture me in the pen
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| Doin' hundred and five on the 95 in the win'
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| Head up out to the meadow refuse to practice the when
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| I’m gutta, gutta, gutta, I gotta shake them off
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| Red and blue on my tail, got some residue on my pouch
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| Helicopters they stoppin' they target me on the road
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| Grab the work and the money and tell them crackers I’m out
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| (Good for him, he’s gutta, gutta, gutta…)
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| Ch-chea, Gutta, fuck you crackers nigga, they ain’t fucking with me nigga
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| Attention all units, attention all units, we are on the lookout for a suspect
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| heading southbound on I-95. |
| Suspect is arriving in a black Chevy Malibu.
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| Suspect is considered armed and dangerous. |
| Proceed with caution |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Fed Bound , by - Ace Hood. Song from the album DJ Khaled Presents Ace Hood Gutta, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп