Feelings (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 **** (Supa)

Takin' this shit to Kentucky back down to Miami

I'm sayin though like

I'm blessed by the real ****, 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 **** 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 ****, 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' **** only mad 'cause I'm realer than 'em

I said I'm realer than 'em

I said a **** 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, ****

Get-get-get up in your bag

Hop out of your feelings, ****

I put money on your head like Forgiatos on the whip

Never use a cut so **** 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 **** 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 **** only mad 'cause I'm realer than 'em

I said I'm realer than 'em

I said a **** 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, ****

Get-get-get up in your bag

Hop out of your feelings, ****

(Smitty and Klep, let's get this motherfuckin' money)