Fed Up Lyrics

Swing dope gang too official, Know if we bend on yo rip we a lock for to get ya

Bitch I done I won't diss you, Send bullets straight to his face and his

Muhfuccin' tissue, Bounce out the V go and get you

Fuck all the opps from that block, Know I'm tryna get wit you

And none of y'all tryna get with me, Cuz y'all know Lil Up he been standing on

Biz too official, Free bitch wan suck on the pickle

Yeah she be fucking with us but she fuck with them niggas

I'ma pop out, squeezing triggers, Switchy on fully

You know I'm a lock for to get you, Walking em down out the picture

Fuck all the opps, I'll be glad when I really dismiss em

And none of these niggas be wit it, Cuz I swear to God when we blick

They don't even be blickin',One opp sent shots he was missing

Know he a bitch, On a drill the lil' nigga was pissing

Hop out the car get to blickin, Look to my left and my right

Fo I make this decision, Niggas don't know that I'm wit it

Bitch I'm a young slime nigga, Been turnt in the city

Say the best thing to do is get wit me, Cuz all of my guys we gon eat

That's no cap, no kizzy, Leaving the drill reminising

Zy on my right standing tall bumping shit like a piston

Fans in my face while I'm chillin'

Bitch do you know bout the way a young nigga been feelin'

Bitch this shit ain't competition, But I can put it on God

You been here for a minute, And yo mans was dancing and tricking

But you swear to God if we bend, That y'all niggas is blickin'

Niggas ain't standing on biz, Innem cuts, send straight 40's and 9's

To his mind fuck em up, Yo homie thinking he 50

Cuz he still alive, He gon' die when we pop out the cut

Niggas be thinking this shit here a bluff, When I put it on God that

This shit ain't a bluff, Used to be out onna field

Causing hell, Now I'm out inna field tryna make niggas dust

I don't know why niggas see me in clutch

When I know for a fact that you ain't finna bust

Some niggas faking, ain't got nun tucked

But you ain't gotta lie, Nigga, keep it a buck

These niggas broke, Mane, I don't give a fuck

Mane, Don't run into me, for yo ass outta luck

Bitch, I'm outside tryna get to the bucks

But if opps tryna crash, Mane I don't give a fuck

Uh, bitch, I been out tryna sco

Two at a time, now that's three in a row

I'm cracking dimes, not threes and da fours

Dis bitch dumb as a bitch, I ain't bringing her home

Fuck off my phone, Bitch better leave me alone

I'm in class tryna work on my song

Popping my shit on a Sunday, hitting at opps

The next day, I'm here working on chromes

He making songs, Bitch, we ain't making no songs

Bout the opps niggas know what we on

He claim he turnt till his ass get burnt

Just for bringing my name up in one of them songs

He going long, bullets like Patrick Mahomes

Throwing dots, tapping skin with no phone

I'm tryna slide and hop out, get em gone stop that snatching

For niggas, Come run in yo home