Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
See you lookin sad, hella mad, keep ya head up
See you got no pole, out here lackin, pick yo pants up
They hate me even more cus i'm Mexican and handsome
Cartel shit, get kidnapped, held for ransom
Direct another movie cus i shootin all these actors
Standin ovation, the way that we clapped em
Get out the way, you don't wanna get mixed up
Take you to the gym, when i talk you gon sit up
Don't be lookin down, im on top, keep ya chin up
Photo shop, imma take yo ass out the picture
I ain't worried bout ya, when i getcha ima get ya
And i got hittas, when they hit ya, they gon hit ya
Gremlin Gang for life, my brother, forever miss em
Big ass cannon, feel like im blowin missiles
100 round drums, so you know that i won't miss ya
But i dont need it, fell in love with shootin pistols
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
These niggas workin with the police, but claimin that they some killas
All you talkin like you know me, but only see me in pictures
And you rappin like you wit it, but never stand on that business
All that tough talkin on twitter, the reason he aint amazin
And im rolling hard, im buzzin, this Ecstasy got to beatin me
This bitch say that she love me, but money is what you see in me
And bitch, im from the park where its cold, so i got the heat on me
And bitch, im gangsta killa, but stay with the double G on me
And this bitch must be crazy, she talkin bout put that seed in me
A million dollar baby, i knew i'd be on the T.V. screen
This bitch thought imma chase her, bitch i don even chase Hennesy
These niggas aint no friend of me, plottin i know they envy me
You the type, steady postin pipes on your Facebook
Caught his ass, with no gun in sight, got his brains took
Better keep you a gun, I brought some forty's for my shorties, they might shoot em for fun
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
King Ace - Fed Up, Pt. 1 (feat. Smiles) Lyrics
King Ace - Fed Up, Pt. 1 (feat. Smiles) Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
See you lookin sad, hella mad, keep ya head up
See you got no pole, out here lackin, pick yo pants up
They hate me even more cus i'm Mexican and handsome
Cartel shit, get kidnapped, held for ransom
Direct another movie cus i shootin all these actors
Standin ovation, the way that we clapped em
Get out the way, you don't wanna get mixed up
Take you to the gym, when i talk you gon sit up
Don't be lookin down, im on top, keep ya chin up
Photo shop, imma take yo ass out the picture
I ain't worried bout ya, when i getcha ima get ya
And i got hittas, when they hit ya, they gon hit ya
Gremlin Gang for life, my brother, forever miss em
Big ass cannon, feel like im blowin missiles
100 round drums, so you know that i won't miss ya
But i dont need it, fell in love with shootin pistols
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
These niggas workin with the police, but claimin that they some killas
All you talkin like you know me, but only see me in pictures
And you rappin like you wit it, but never stand on that business
All that tough talkin on twitter, the reason he aint amazin
And im rolling hard, im buzzin, this Ecstasy got to beatin me
This bitch say that she love me, but money is what you see in me
And bitch, im from the park where its cold, so i got the heat on me
And bitch, im gangsta killa, but stay with the double G on me
And this bitch must be crazy, she talkin bout put that seed in me
A million dollar baby, i knew i'd be on the T.V. screen
This bitch thought imma chase her, bitch i don even chase Hennesy
These niggas aint no friend of me, plottin i know they envy me
You the type, steady postin pipes on your Facebook
Caught his ass, with no gun in sight, got his brains took
Better keep you a gun, I brought some forty's for my shorties, they might shoot em for fun
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
See you lookin sad, hella mad, keep ya head up
See you got no pole, out here lackin, pick yo pants up
They hate me even more cus i'm Mexican and handsome
Cartel shit, get kidnapped, held for ransom
Direct another movie cus i shootin all these actors
Standin ovation, the way that we clapped em
Get out the way, you don't wanna get mixed up
Take you to the gym, when i talk you gon sit up
Don't be lookin down, im on top, keep ya chin up
Photo shop, imma take yo ass out the picture
I ain't worried bout ya, when i getcha ima get ya
And i got hittas, when they hit ya, they gon hit ya
Gremlin Gang for life, my brother, forever miss em
Big ass cannon, feel like im blowin missiles
100 round drums, so you know that i won't miss ya
But i dont need it, fell in love with shootin pistols
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
These niggas workin with the police, but claimin that they some killas
All you talkin like you know me, but only see me in pictures
And you rappin like you wit it, but never stand on that business
All that tough talkin on twitter, the reason he aint amazin
And im rolling hard, im buzzin, this Ecstasy got to beatin me
This bitch say that she love me, but money is what you see in me
And bitch, im from the park where its cold, so i got the heat on me
And bitch, im gangsta killa, but stay with the double G on me
And this bitch must be crazy, she talkin bout put that seed in me
A million dollar baby, i knew i'd be on the T.V. screen
This bitch thought imma chase her, bitch i don even chase Hennesy
These niggas aint no friend of me, plottin i know they envy me
You the type, steady postin pipes on your Facebook
Caught his ass, with no gun in sight, got his brains took
Better keep you a gun, I brought some forty's for my shorties, they might shoot em for fun
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
Heard the Ops hatin, tell them boys get they bread up
Goofy Op, this my homie, tell em pick his mans up
You the type, when we bump heads, got ya hands up
They workin with the feds, man that shit got me fed up
Writer: Angelo Lopez, Omar Aladarbeh
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave