Fed Up - Chris King

And you know me, that four-four way brackin' nigga, I’m the one

Oh yeah, yeah

Oh yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah

No, no, don’t leave, baby

You’re all I want, all I need, baby

You said you would ride or die for me, baby

You wanted to smoke a blunt for me, baby, oh yeah

I jump up in that foreign, then I sped out

All this money on me, bitch I’m fed up

I want all the smoke, I need a head count

And no below the neck, I’m talking head shots

I jump up in that foreign, bitch I sped off

All this money on me, bitch I’m fed up

I want all the smoke, I need a head count

And no below the neck, I’m talking head shots

Yeah you made your bed, you gotta lay down

Yeah you made your bed, you gotta lay down

Yeah you made your bed, you gotta lay down

And no below the neck, I’m talking head shots

I am from the area where my niggas, they ain’t scared of sittin' over all the

souls,

I’ma keep it low key, tryna roll weed, you approach me, that 44 breathe,

then you know it’s breakin' necks and snappin' bones

I don’t know this shorty, but she know me, suck my poley

On the low key, do you roll weed

And if not, then hit the door

I just need some silence, keep it silent while I’m vibin'

And if not then I get violent, if it’s not 'bout money rolls

She just want a purse with those 2 C’s up on her side her

She a rider and you niggas always first to bend over

Try if you feel lucky, but right there is suicidal

And the doors are suicidal, assault rifle clip got low

Jumpin' out the guts of your bitch like the newest model

Off the showroom floor I borrowed, I will bring her back tomorrow

80 turn to 20 when I sing, she fuck the stock it

All that plastic in her body like the 4G autos on Hondas, ain’t no sense to it

All this money on me, will never end, will it

with her and her girls, and I know her friends feel it

They say they lovin' my vibe, I say I been chillin'

She say no men different, Frank Lucas and a chinchilla

I gotta watch it, all eyes on burn on my skin

You not my bro, not my guy, you not my friend nigga

Man I sold coke in the sky, and in the Benz nigga

It’s snot the world 'til I die, I’m here to win nigga

No, no, don’t leave, baby

You’re all I want, all I need, baby

You said you would ride or die for me, baby

You wanted to smoke a blunt for me, baby, oh yeah

I jump up in that foreign, then I sped out

All this money on me, bitch I’m fed up

I want all the smoke, I need a head count

And no below the neck, I’m talking head shots

I jump up in that foreign, bitch I sped off

All this money on me, bitch I’m fed up

I want all the smoke, I need a head count

And no below the neck, I’m talking head shots

Yeah you made your bed, you gotta lay down

Yeah you made your bed, you gotta lay down

Yeah you made your bed, you gotta lay down

And no below the neck, I’m talking head shots

I am from the area where my niggas, they ain’t scared of sittin' over all the

souls,

I’ma keep it low key, tryna roll weed, you approach me, that 44 breathe,

then you know it’s breakin' necks and snappin' bones