Lyrics Feddy Cheese - Roblo, Pretty Black, Fedx

Feddy Cheese

«Look what they’ve done to my song ohh,»
«Look what they’ve done to my song…»
Yeh, ya boy man fedy what’s up?
Yeh, ha, stay feelin' the feelin'
Sit back and push off to this
My cody get the doughy we blaze it and then cough it
Waitin' but I basically Jake Plummer the offence
Like hold up wait I’m greater in the pockets now
Sendin' all my blessin' to ya section fore I lock ya down
My profit is crazy the error that I offset
Fucka we ain’t talked yet until a nigga talkin' cheques
They call me Cash and I ain’t never been a counterfeit
Seduce you wid the two shot semi a nigga bound to hit
I’m bound to twist up dummies and leave 'em mummy wrapped
Couple to ya importin' areas you ain’t comin' back
A hundred stacks a month’ll make you a millionaire
So twelve months and I bet you that I feel it playa
Don’t play around wid my money I’ll make a mess of ya
Separate ya body they’ll be lookin' for the rest of ya
Believe what I tell ya my rap is true story
Like the seventeen Glock ten and them two forties
It’s the dopegame mob figaz
Both click mob niggas
Fedy want 'em hit so I’m gon' do the job nigga
Benz wagon bubble eyes I ain’t like these other guys
Husalah fightin' cases but I’m still movin' pies
Man all I know is what I do all I do is what I know
Push drugs leave vitims bleedin'
I’m strong but sometimes I feel that shit be eatin'
Me alive through my heartless body
My niggas ride like Marcus Garvey
Dealin' wid carbon copies of myself
Thinkin' they walkin' in my shoes but they’re beyond themself
Hundred Proof’s on some other shit can’t explain in one verse
The man I became it won’t burst
But basically I’m nothin' like you suckas
You niggas is all alike I saw the light wid righteous brothers
Now I can tell the difference quick
Wanna check up on my niggas when they wrapped up in some shit
Stupid at that, yo I didn’t know money was doin' like that
Now I’m here, but don’t nobody wanna believe that
Hundred’s increasin' fuck is the secret
Y’all ain’t had it all on no G shit
Swallow that weak shit cause everything y’all follow I lead it
Ya game’s been passed down and passed down
It sounds thrash now y’all niggas better talk than achieve it
See I’m a hustler, hustler hustler
Fifty States mister corporate in a Phantom wid a chaffeur
They try the dope-uh, the coke they smoked up
The god’s in the buildin' if I move they fold up
I’m in a custom, Bentley so fuck 'em
The lord done pushed off in whips V-dozen
Can you trust him?
Debiassi in jet planes money in the bank baby
Coke in duct tape we flip we holdin' weight baby
It’s the king of the mob big cigars
Fifty cals on the hip of my goons we move hard, we move hard
Vests on the chests of dudes that spit bars at ya fitteds for real
You know ya soul’s in the hand of the boy baby
I’m on a yacth wid a glass in the air and ya lady
«Look what they’ve done to my song ohh,»
«Look what they’ve done to my song…»