Feds Watching – Song and Lyrics by 2 Chainz

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Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Feds Watching’ by 2 Chainz. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 2 Chainz or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.

Ooh ooh ooh tomorrow, tomorrow (tomorrow, tomorrow)
Tomorrow, tomorrow (tomorrow, tomorrow) yea
Tomorrow, tomorrow (tomorrow, tomorrow) talkin’ right now
Tomorrow, tomorrow (tomorrow, tomorrow) I’m talkin’ right now
Tomorrow, tomorrow (tomorrow, tomorrow) ain’t no such thing as tomorrow
Tomorrow, tomorrow (tomorrow, tomorrow) the way we livin’ today
Tomorrow, tomorrow (tomorrow, tomorrow) talkin’ right now

(2 Chainz!) dreads hang on designer everything
Mr. Comme des Garçons, Mr. Alexander Wang
Mr. Chain, pinky ring, flow insane, ho insane
Man, these shoes I got on, these the hardest I’ve done seen
It look clean when you pour it; I remix it make it dirty
If she got good head and text me I text back and tell her “hurry”
This that category five when I walk up in the strip club
Throw it high, make you and George Washington head butt
OG’s never fed us, now young niggas fed up
Ballin’ so hard, I deserve a and one
Baking soda marketing, I’m getting it ain’t I? Obviously
You a bitch, you a ho, that’s just my philosophy
And I’m known to kick it like the captain of a soccer team
Billie Jean red leather same color Red Lobster
And she brain wash ya, head doctor
I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching

I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (yeah)
I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (yeah)
I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (tell ’em)
Drop top, head bopping

I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (yeah)
I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (true!)
I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (yeah)
Drop top, head bopping

Grams to Grammy’s, two guns Yosemite
Niggas put their Glock on your ass, f*ck that Heather B
Pumping that amphetamine, all this D I’m peddling
I be somewhere settling, somewhere that you have never been
To the top you never been, you might need a respirator
Money on the rise like I’m counting on a elevator
You gon’ need a detonator swimming with them barracudas
Put the rocket on that ma’fucka prosecutor
This Armani, this Givenchy, I parachute you
I’m so fly I jumped out the air wearing Gucci (tell ’em!)
I’m raw, talking California Rolls
Smoking California weed with California hoes (true!)
Sending flicks to my partners in the state pen
I just got some pants made out off snake skin
See them shades you got on call Ray-Bans
And the shade I got on cost eight bands

I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (yeah)
I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (yeah)
I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (tell ’em)
Drop top, head bopping

I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (yeah)
I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (true)
I’m be fresh as hell if the Feds watching (yeah)
Drop top, head bopping