Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Time to Check My Fetty, artist - Mr.serv On
Date of issue: 28.07.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Time to Check My Fetty |
Huh, it’s like this here player, ain’t no rules in the ghetto |
It ain’t really 'bout the dollar value, it’s 'bout the principle |
A life ain’t worth nothing, any nigga come shizz out on mine |
You hear what I’m saying? |
I’m gonna handle that |
I’m gonna show these motherfuckers, I ain’t playing |
That’s the American way, I mean I’m kicking up crack houses |
Knocking motherfucking doors in, 'cause I gotta get mine |
Time to get your fetty, get your paper |
Come short with the cream we going take you |
Time to get your fetty, get your paper |
Come short with the cream we going take you |
Went half on a key with my partner Mr. Serv On |
Eighteen oz’s add up, nigga that’s half home |
Open up shop on six and Berone street |
The fiends walking around, every nigga out there know me |
Hear them on the beeper, nigga, it’s on |
I done sold sixteen, I’m on my way home |
Two came up short, somebody must be smoking |
P grabbed that age K, nigga we ain’t joking |
Bullets got no dis name, a pound and back of that good cain |
1997, the dope game |
Some call me Frank Nitty 'cause I ain’t taking no shorts |
I’m aiming that beam at your motherfucking heart |
Let the windows down on my green Eddie Bauer |
A 187 for this crystal white powder |
So Serv On, cut those lights off and creep |
That’s when we put them cockroaches to sleep |
Cruise up drive to errata to the 3rd ward |
Professional execution, fuck a murder charge |
Time to get your fetty, get your paper |
Come short with the cream we going take you |
Time to get your fetty, get your paper |
Come short with the cream we going take you |
Time to get your fetty, get your paper |
Come short with the cream we going take you |
Time to get your fetty, get your paper |
Come short with the cream we going take you |
I’m paranoid, I can’t sleep, I think my phone tapped |
Rest in peace little Jacob in the calliope got kidnapped |
Now I’m tripping on shit, I ain’t slipping on shit |
We carry gats and shit, bulletproof vests in case niggas talking shit |
Wanna creep up on us killers, drug dealers |
Ghetto millionaire where niggas and bitches feel us |
Fake niggas step back, jackers meet my chrome gat |
They kill my cousin fulling ghosts his never come back |
It’s an eye for an eye in this dope game |
Niggas are losing their life living that heroin and cocaine |
I trust nobody but my nickel plated Nino |
Have you seen her, fuck with my greens nigga you going meet her |
Meet your maker, one way ticket to Jamaica |
Now your bitch with me, and I’m a fuck her, then break her |
Ain’t no rules in this dope game |
But don’t get high on your own supplies, man |
But if you fuck with soldiers you coo coo for cocoa puffs |
Cause niggas in my hood losing their life for furl and cooked rocks |
Time to get your fetty, get your paper |
Come short with the cream we going take you |
Time to get your fetty, get your paper |
Come short with the cream we going take you |
Hit the block in the purple caddy, got you bitches calling me daddy |
Got some mountains in the trunk, nigga they going faster |
So what the fuck you want? |
Slanging them green birds and lemon drops |
Pop a pound of that Cali green serving fiends |
Got 'em fat like fifties, which one of you niggas trying to short me |
Big Mo take me to the calliope, so I can see Slim |
Hit the desert eagle and pay these bitches like a candy painted regale |
Now I’m ready to set shop like Buggsy Seagel |
On the parkway you bitches gonna die my way |
Call my nigga Cujo, it’s going down, check my fetty nigga |