(feat. The Jacka and Rydah J. Klyde)
[Verse 1: Fed-X]
Fifty States!, yo
Guess who the dude the girls love him
Fed-X Fifty States I'm so custom
I'm like a Benz whip S-Class sports car
Hard top drop automatic road bar
Like a Continental R I'm rare
They call me another country so come catch me there
I'm international London and Spain
Jamaica, to the Philippines luxury planes
Did some time in Panama learned the laundering game
Plus my lawyer got an Einstein brain
Bubbled up on the stocks got it locked in the Ukraine for real
What would it take for Fifty to make a mil?
Not much, Fed Fifty States Warbucks
Debiassi if you know me the million dollar man
With the million dollar plan I got my gun in hand
I'm on the, run for real but my dogs don't squeal
It's the Mob
[HOOK:]
Sorry I'm mad at you
You can come and walk in my shoes, in my shoes
That's what I had to do
Now everybody's singin' the blues, the blues
[Verse 2: Jacka & Rydah]
Smoke a lotta weed hardly ever get upset
You's a fly motherf*cka if you got this in the deck
Baby all up on me slidin' slidin' up my neck
Ended up gettin' sucked started of wid a peck
Started off with the Burberry check on the Air Force
Who care's if ya head's hard, just gimme some neck
Gettin' way higher than you suckas expect
We the f*ckin' Mob Figaz wid them treal ass reps boy
[Rydah J. Klyde:]
And all we want is our issue, don't make us have to pull out pistols
He's tryna be good he's in the hood wid no lights on
Now I pick the size of my chrome I hope these bitches fit on
You know niggas ain't neh' had nuttin' ain't know how to act
I swing eights wid no Ls and all my shit don't rack
Got the latest gats Air Force Ones wid the gator strap
danglin off the back and niggas hate us for that
And I love it, shit we need worldwide coverage
Swisher Sweet smokers Philly smokers Backwood, Dutches
Eastcoast Mid-West DownSouth hustlers
Mob Figaz baby we don't f*ck wid suckas
Nigga have you ever grind can you roll wid the punches
If ya, dyin' to shine you'll be dead in some months if
I gotta put you on uhuhuhuh on and
Nigga where was you when I was hustlin' in the stormin'
[HOOK x2]
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(feat. The Jacka and Rydah J. Klyde)
[Verse 1: Fed-X]
Fifty States!, yo
Guess who the dude the girls love him
Fed-X Fifty States I'm so custom
I'm like a Benz whip S-Class sports car
Hard top drop automatic road bar
Like a Continental R I'm rare
They call me another country so come catch me there
I'm international London and Spain
Jamaica, to the Philippines luxury planes
Did some time in Panama learned the laundering game
Plus my lawyer got an Einstein brain
Bubbled up on the stocks got it locked in the Ukraine for real
What would it take for Fifty to make a mil?
Not much, Fed Fifty States Warbucks
Debiassi if you know me the million dollar man
With the million dollar plan I got my gun in hand
I'm on the, run for real but my dogs don't squeal
It's the Mob
[HOOK:]
Sorry I'm mad at you
You can come and walk in my shoes, in my shoes
That's what I had to do
Now everybody's singin' the blues, the blues
[Verse 2: Jacka & Rydah]
Smoke a lotta weed hardly ever get upset
You's a fly motherf*cka if you got this in the deck
Baby all up on me slidin' slidin' up my neck
Ended up gettin' sucked started of wid a peck
Started off with the Burberry check on the Air Force
Who care's if ya head's hard, just gimme some neck
Gettin' way higher than you suckas expect
We the f*ckin' Mob Figaz wid them treal ass reps boy
[Rydah J. Klyde:]
And all we want is our issue, don't make us have to pull out pistols
He's tryna be good he's in the hood wid no lights on
Now I pick the size of my chrome I hope these bitches fit on
You know niggas ain't neh' had nuttin' ain't know how to act
I swing eights wid no Ls and all my shit don't rack
Got the latest gats Air Force Ones wid the gator strap
danglin off the back and niggas hate us for that
And I love it, shit we need worldwide coverage
Swisher Sweet smokers Philly smokers Backwood, Dutches
Eastcoast Mid-West DownSouth hustlers
Mob Figaz baby we don't f*ck wid suckas
Nigga have you ever grind can you roll wid the punches
If ya, dyin' to shine you'll be dead in some months if
I gotta put you on uhuhuhuh on and
Nigga where was you when I was hustlin' in the stormin'
[HOOK x2]
[Verse 1: Fed-X]
Fifty States!, yo
Guess who the dude the girls love him
Fed-X Fifty States I'm so custom
I'm like a Benz whip S-Class sports car
Hard top drop automatic road bar
Like a Continental R I'm rare
They call me another country so come catch me there
I'm international London and Spain
Jamaica, to the Philippines luxury planes
Did some time in Panama learned the laundering game
Plus my lawyer got an Einstein brain
Bubbled up on the stocks got it locked in the Ukraine for real
What would it take for Fifty to make a mil?
Not much, Fed Fifty States Warbucks
Debiassi if you know me the million dollar man
With the million dollar plan I got my gun in hand
I'm on the, run for real but my dogs don't squeal
It's the Mob
[HOOK:]
Sorry I'm mad at you
You can come and walk in my shoes, in my shoes
That's what I had to do
Now everybody's singin' the blues, the blues
[Verse 2: Jacka & Rydah]
Smoke a lotta weed hardly ever get upset
You's a fly motherf*cka if you got this in the deck
Baby all up on me slidin' slidin' up my neck
Ended up gettin' sucked started of wid a peck
Started off with the Burberry check on the Air Force
Who care's if ya head's hard, just gimme some neck
Gettin' way higher than you suckas expect
We the f*ckin' Mob Figaz wid them treal ass reps boy
[Rydah J. Klyde:]
And all we want is our issue, don't make us have to pull out pistols
He's tryna be good he's in the hood wid no lights on
Now I pick the size of my chrome I hope these bitches fit on
You know niggas ain't neh' had nuttin' ain't know how to act
I swing eights wid no Ls and all my shit don't rack
Got the latest gats Air Force Ones wid the gator strap
danglin off the back and niggas hate us for that
And I love it, shit we need worldwide coverage
Swisher Sweet smokers Philly smokers Backwood, Dutches
Eastcoast Mid-West DownSouth hustlers
Mob Figaz baby we don't f*ck wid suckas
Nigga have you ever grind can you roll wid the punches
If ya, dyin' to shine you'll be dead in some months if
I gotta put you on uhuhuhuh on and
Nigga where was you when I was hustlin' in the stormin'
[HOOK x2]