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Feeling Like (feat. Jeezy)

I just pray to God, them crackers don't come indite me

I know if I go to jail, you prolly never write me

I be thinkin' like, "None these bitches really like me"

I be feelin' like you only want me 'cause I'm icy

I just pray to God, them crackers don't come indite me

I know if I go to jail, you prolly never write me

I be thinkin' like, "None these bitches really like me"

I be feelin' like you only want me 'cause I'm icyMy li'l nigga trippin', have to wanna catch a body

He even dropped outta school to pursue his hobby

I told him to just do it and don't talk about it

And once you slide, boy, you better hit everybody

I'm livin' like a sniper, slidin' with the window cracked

'Cause I'm a backseat rider

I be chasin' paper but these ladies, they be after me

And every time I talk to one of 'em, they got a strategy

And all of 'em got a game plan on how to capture me

I'm thinkin' 'bout my life, every night I'm smokin' grabba leaf

I'm thinkin' about my homies in the system

I'm thinkin' about my homies 'cause I miss 'em

I wish you could call me to come get you

My nigga you missed Christmas

My nigga you missed Easter

My nigga you missin' out on your children

The streets vouch for me 'cause rappin' what I'm livin'

I rap the way I rap 'cause I be rappin' what I'm feelin'

Li'l Kodak, I'm goneI just pray to God, them crackers don't come indite me

I know if I go to jail, you prolly never write me

I be thinkin' like, "None these bitches really like me"

I be feelin' like you only want me 'cause I'm icy

I just pray to God, them crackers don't come indite me

I know if I go to jail, you prolly never write me

I be thinkin' like, "None these bitches really like me"

I be feelin' like you only want me 'cause I'm icyNow my daughter got a Nanny for my her other Nanny

Bitch, I made it out the hood, motherfuck a Grammy

Two mil on wheels, that's in my garage

Wish Granny could see me now, bitch, I'm livin' large

Trip to Lauderdale, reupped in Parkway

50/50, make it back, that's what the odds say

Young pray for us, we on the turnpike

And if them lights get behind us, I'ma burn rubber

See niggas lose they life, nigga lose their minds

Niggas get to lackin' they get left behind, woo

These niggas love to hate but shit, I love the grind

And ain't no lookin' back, that's just a waste of time

Long live Fresh, these niggas ain't ride for ya

But keep it real, hey, who really down to die for ya?

All I know is that these chains take away this pain

Strapped up in the 'rari in designer frames

Man look, feds just hit the last house

My paranoid ass barely got the cash out

I feel like niggas don't want me to be great

Italian made, but the inside cheesecake

Thank the Lord, I got blessed with some trap money

But the devil got me workin' for this rap money

They tried to stop me livin' good, I'ma die today

Rich nigga from the hood, I'ma die that way

Songwriters

Dieuson Octave, Carlton Mays Jr., Jay JenkinsPublished by

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