Artist: Dayton Family
Album: F.B.I
Song: F.B.I
(Shoestring)
I'm wakin up in the mornin, with problems on my mind
Motherf*ck the education and drug rebilitation
I'm smokin on that weed and the green is gettin tasty
Dead feds in my closet cause they tried to chase me
November the 29th, I bust open my mommas c*ck
pus*y ho addicted to drinking, now I'm addicted to crack rock
So motherf*ck you b*tches and you snitches tryin to do me in
Police in disguises, and he tries to buy Peruvian
Knockin at my f*ckin door, duckin and dodgin on that floor
That oopin got you noid', got me reachin' for my forty-four
Creepin up out my window pane, I smell cops
A honkey on the block, drop to my knee, I took a shot
I seen him drop, one time this ain't the place for that
Since he's a fed, I took off his face for that
That sh*t that he tried to pull
You know he couldn't get away with this
b*tch I'm a time bomb, time, so don't you play with this
f*ck being indicted, don't you try it that's the f*ckin story
Cops roll to the cemetary, ain't no snitches in my laboratory
I'm fittin to stir it, rock it up, so where's my silver spoon
I put my yea out on the block, and all you hear is boom
This is my set, so you can jet, or get that sweater wet
A fed is bloody, he's been wounded by a f*cking tech
Rat tat to the tat tat, I'm a take him out of his misery
For ridin my nuts and tryin to stick me with delivery
Loose lips, sink ships, so this is do or die
This is a letter from Shoestring to the F.B.I
Backstabbers gone, so I guess you dirty cops are clean
You took a father from their family, motherf*ck their dreams
Is what you said, so motherf*cking b*tch ass fed
I want you dead, I'm gonna pump your ass full of lead
Let's make a deal, this sh*t is real, ill
I pack my steel, you let him go
Then we can let you live, you made that switch
And now it's time to kill you b*tch
Give you an overdose of bullets, and put you in a ditch
Drug dealers and fed killers, lets get united
Boom holes on them hoes, scream f*ck being indicted
(Bootleg)
Motherf*ck the F.B.I., b*tches I'm prepared to die
XXXXXXX's back on my di*k, cause I won't slang his drug supply
Jail ain't never scared me none, f*ck the feds and vice cops too
Distribution of cocaine, is that all y'all can come with dude
b*tches betta think, fast find yourself a better snitch
Cause that b*tch you got smoke rocks
So that mean her word ain't sh*t
If I get some prison time, give me mine, cause I ain't fake
Since my clique don't snitch
When I get out all my connections is straight
The journal keeps my name in lights, entrapment to the third degree
Before my trial can come, the newspaper want to sentence me
b*tch Bootlegs prepared to go, you'll never get this chance again
Gotta call my auntie, they want your nephew in the pen
b*tch we ain't no kin, f*ck that smilin I ain't in that mood
Bringin the indictment papers, eatin on my grandmother's food
b*tch you know that's rude, attitude is to the third degree
Send me to penetentiary, come out that b*tch a straight up G
Never been a busta, always been a hustla
Sellin yea, came up bustin caps
So we could deal this dime out where I stay
Out to make my pay, and sellin yea the only way I know
Fiends around the block, soon as I open up my rock house door
Gotta make some more, I'm droppin eighth-ies on that digital scale
More popular than Taco Bell, taco shells, couldn't make these sales
Motherf*ckin b*tch, I want a key, give me that uncut raw
sh*t'll numb your jaw, the best cocaine these crackheads ever saw
Your momma's eyes are big again, everytime she smokes
She plots, since I wouldn't give her no rock
She sending the federal government in my spot
Conspiracy and distribution, drop some grip so I can fight it
Free again to sell dope, b*tch f*ck being indicted