Who dat on the phone he talking fed talk
Click on that nigga that's a dead walk
Yo money on fold that's a dead talk
My pack seasoned up
Our duffle bag stuffed
We get'em all in
I treat ya like a dog
Gone feed ya the food
I bust ya head to the meat
Turn ya mind to food
Yo nigga on me
Bitch I wouldn't lie to you
I don't want him send him back
Or set fire to him
He's a fed baby
So I'm gone set fire to him
And ima sit on daddy dick
He got that fire to him
And that dick hit different
When that bag stuck to him
And ima turn up for a Check
So pass him to me
Ima pearl his blunts and lick his nuts
F*ck around his thumb in my butt
Yeah that's what's up
I love dope boys
That play with big toys
That make big noise
And I take off on any nigga
Play with my boys
Hannnnn
Who dat on the phone he talking fed talk
Click on that nigga that's a dead walk
Yo money on fold that's a dead talk
My pack seasoned up
Our duffle bag stuffed
We get'em all in
Karma Blo - Fed Talk Lyrics
Karma Blo - Fed Talk Lyrics
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Who dat on the phone he talking fed talk
Click on that nigga that's a dead walk
Yo money on fold that's a dead talk
My pack seasoned up
Our duffle bag stuffed
We get'em all in
I treat ya like a dog
Gone feed ya the food
I bust ya head to the meat
Turn ya mind to food
Yo nigga on me
Bitch I wouldn't lie to you
I don't want him send him back
Or set fire to him
He's a fed baby
So I'm gone set fire to him
And ima sit on daddy dick
He got that fire to him
And that dick hit different
When that bag stuck to him
And ima turn up for a Check
So pass him to me
Ima pearl his blunts and lick his nuts
F*ck around his thumb in my butt
Yeah that's what's up
I love dope boys
That play with big toys
That make big noise
And I take off on any nigga
Play with my boys
Hannnnn
Who dat on the phone he talking fed talk
Click on that nigga that's a dead walk
Yo money on fold that's a dead talk
My pack seasoned up
Our duffle bag stuffed
We get'em all in
Click on that nigga that's a dead walk
Yo money on fold that's a dead talk
My pack seasoned up
Our duffle bag stuffed
We get'em all in
I treat ya like a dog
Gone feed ya the food
I bust ya head to the meat
Turn ya mind to food
Yo nigga on me
Bitch I wouldn't lie to you
I don't want him send him back
Or set fire to him
He's a fed baby
So I'm gone set fire to him
And ima sit on daddy dick
He got that fire to him
And that dick hit different
When that bag stuck to him
And ima turn up for a Check
So pass him to me
Ima pearl his blunts and lick his nuts
F*ck around his thumb in my butt
Yeah that's what's up
I love dope boys
That play with big toys
That make big noise
And I take off on any nigga
Play with my boys
Hannnnn
Who dat on the phone he talking fed talk
Click on that nigga that's a dead walk
Yo money on fold that's a dead talk
My pack seasoned up
Our duffle bag stuffed
We get'em all in
Writer: Honey Johnson
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid