Fetti
Fetti

Curren$y, Freddie Gibbs - Fetti Lyrics

Hip-Hop
Apr 21, 2015
251
Fetti Music Video

Fetti Lyrics

Like, lumber jack vest and some Bape sweats
Eighty nine vets still rock the tape deck
Suckas ain't livin' they just wasting breathe
Summers pedal to the metal chasing debt
Off track placing bets collectin' checks
Draggin' that motherfuckin' money net
On to the next score and we ain't finish countin' yet
Fuck it, store it in the floor conceal it in the ceiling
Park them cars behind my girls house tell her she ain't see shit
Nigga, we movin' like new apartment units
I'm just doin' my thing and hoes drawn to it
Bomb fluent in that money talk
Glass slippers before she can walk
Silver spoons fill her food for thought
Cinderella's prissy sisters woulda pissed their pants to kiss her
Break it off on sight She been gone all night, but she came back right
Tip toeing in the room, tryna not to wake me
Slipped ten grand beneath my pillow and whispered I love you, baby
Shit crazy but it makes perfect sense payin' me to play her
But I shan't say I'mma pimp, just a prolific playa with a gift
It's in my nature to put that pressure on simps
Come off that paper, you don't know what to do with that shit
I can show ya I can grow ya Into something much colder
We the highed-up title holders. Behold us

Behold us
There's hoes know us
It's like the game show us
(That nigga, Tarantino flow)
(You know what I'm sayin'?)

Yeah, dirty needle to the mainline
You can play kissy face with them bitches nigga I tame mine
Strap her down with two bricks and straight put that bitch on a train ride
If she ain't about that cheddar I give these heffers no hang time
Like billy ho, tryna reup on them pills and blow
Cleaner than Sydney Dean and spike gon' jump this shit media before
Like I didn't come thru on the Lexus VS and the Benz on twenty inch rims before
I sellin' them nothin' but killa I'm feelin' like Pete Villa in Cartier lenses ho
You surely gon' die, have you lived before?
Blew dope smoke on suede roofs
Through Rolex on wood wheel
Two hoes next that room deal
Nigga cruise through to a cool meal
Stay in the streets not indicted
Ce to the O my shit drop when I feel like it
Just call me Freddie Gordy on them forties
I chamber block that ch-ch-ch-chopper thank the Lordy
Gotta strip these niggas bare 'cause bare essentials couldn't afford it
Fuck an album title, call my shit the coldest shit recorded
Shoot it smoke it snort it
Rollin dragin' now everybody chasin'
Gary in the 1980s bitch everybody basin
It's dinner time and shorty can't eat no books, he flippin' yay now
Gave him a hundred years 'cause he Nino Brown of the playground
I swear to god my momma always told me there'd be days
Like smokin' dope and pourin' Henny on my nigga grave site
And wonderin' who gonna raise my child if I get sprayed
Light your boss up like your poppy and get paid
(Yung freddy caine, fa sho man, Freddie soprano)

Spitta and gibbs that pistol to your ribs
That box chevy them 373 gears
Chokes out the concrete, shit spinnin' around me
Hit that weed and deliver a profound speech

Spoke with profound speech speakin prolific
Smokin' on blueberry like Halle head in the piffy
'Bout to boomerang her Eddie, I Billy Bob if she let me
Right on my living room floor
'Cause these monster balls are so heavy

Under the living room floor
There lies trunk full of gold
If shit should ever go low
Then we will never go broke
Liquify the assets, audio dope-boy magic
Keep the Bentley console full of weed ashes

G-classes, glass feat leather under my ass cheeks
Talkin' bout muscle cars got a driveway full of athletes
Rappin' like half the time I got two twenty bands for the half-book
Keep it a hundred solid, they straight shook they half crooks
(That fettuchini whats up)

Writer(s): Fredrick Tipton, Shante Franklin
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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