Feelings Lyrics by DaBoyDame & Rick Ross (feat. EST Gee)
MD, we ain’t even goin to need a clean version for this one
This strictly for the streets
I’m sayin though I come from Oakland (Straight up)
Land of the motherfuckin’ rocks (City of the dope)
Shout out to my Memphis n***** (Supa)
Takin’ this shit to Kentucky back down to Miami
I’m sayin though like
I’m blessed by the real n*****, I come from big E
I fuck with lil D, Big Jook bless me
Grip the CEO
Aye Feez comin’ home too
(You feel me)
Still ballin’ in the lockout
Switches on them yinkies
You dare me soon as I hop out
I made n***** turn into gamers
They ain’t wanna pop out
I know Unk just had to taste it once, he knew it was a knockout
Rappin’ bein’ one of my talents, shit, I never thought that ’bout
I was sliding with lil Dev trying to hit our mans soon as he walked out
Since he passed, I be missing my brother bad
So I been livin’ fast
I was buyin’ bodies way before I bought a bitch a ass
Do the plug bad, run off as soon as I run up my tab
A made n****, I sent ten hits since 2020, I’m a grave filler
Real cocaine flipper
Hank hitter
Hopefully the junkie don’t say this shit taste different
Made a million in the pandemic
I took a picture on Gotti’s page wit’ it
5500 red zone gang member yeah
(5500 red zone gang member yeah)
I’m sayin’ n**** only mad ’cause I’m realer than ’em
I said I’m realer than ’em
I said a n**** only mad ’cause I’m richer than ’em
I said I’m richer than ’em
Get-get-get up in your bag
Hop out of your feelings, n****
Get-get-get up in your bag
Hop out of your feelings, n****
I put money on your head like Forgiatos on the whip
Never use a cut so n**** keep me out the mix
Emeralds in the watch double R’s stamp on the bricks
Thought it was a problem but you know I got it fixed
Ten bands, call ’em tin man
‘Cause all it take is ten bands for the hit man
I’m so rich
Quarter billion and it’s documented
I hope you not offended ’cause I’m ’bout my business
I got a thousand bitches
My money number one
Fuck how you others feel
I do this for my sons
Fuck how they mothers feel
Drop by in broad day, I’ma tryin’ to parlae
I got on all my jewels, we in the dark days
Fuck n***** droppin dead
Choppa, we cop a head
I give her shoppin’ bread
She give me sloppy head
You know she in my DM
Prayin’ she get to see him
I let her roll the smoke
And count up all the re-up
I’m sayin n**** only mad ’cause I’m realer than ’em
I said I’m realer than ’em
I said a n**** only mad ’cause I’m richer than ’em
I said I’m richer than ’em
Get-get-get up in your bag
Hop out of your feelings, n****
Get-get-get up in your bag
Hop out of your feelings, n****
(Smitty and Klep, let’s get this motherfuckin’ money)