shakin’ the feds lyrics – mac dre

(feat. goldie)

[verse 1: mac dre]
i drink heem, and smoke green gr*ss everyday
and love to play in my clean *ss chevrolet
gas break dip down the strip when i fo yo
with four hoes, that touch mo’ bread than togos
no hobos, i f*ck with cream-of-the-croppers
head doctors with choppers and bomb *ss coppers
orville redenbacher couldn’t be more b*tter
i spit these p’s when i knock her
i’m a pimp i don’t love her
undercover, i do it under your nose
i hit a lick on your partner with one of your hoes
i’m runnin’ with those thug n*gg*s and drug dealas that bug n*gg*s that got skrilla i’m godzilla cha-chilla
it’s what is in my hoes, cause i make’em do illegal sh*t to get my dough
slit my throat, if you ever see me fakin’
i betta be tendin’ to this pimpin’ and what they makin’

[chorus: x2]
rollers on dre but they can’t catch him slippin’
yokin’ it up smokin’ it up
he’s rollin in the 7-tre gas break dippin’
shakin’ the feds makin’ the bread ching-ching

[verse 2: goldie]
i drink 211 and smoke on bomb til’ it’s gone
then drop a hits with the mac-a-the-dre from night til’ the morn
it’s long so start your livin it (boom boom)
man i see the n*gg*s sippin'(whoa wha)
l*stin’ for women that’s been suckin’ n f*ckin’ him’n them’n
me i jus sav it up been goin’ to hookers p*ss the buck
master deluxe make a trick make money *ss up
but if the hoe don’t listen then i’m pullin her partner friends
who got some ends to spend n*gg* look i’m in it to win by all means
cause this rappin’ ain’t payin’ for my g’s
i could resort to jackin’ and slayin’ but that won’t burn
i know these puddles wanna see me in shackles
because i roll with killas and dealas, hyenas and jackals you say you dealin’ with network
cut-throat every n*gg* laugh
rushin’ these hoes catch elbows and jabs
we in the lab where it don’t stop
it’s k-i-gig you can see me checkin’ chins servin’ dome shots smoke style

[chorus x2]

[verse 3: mac dre]
it’s the big dog head coach i’m that n*gg*
got my hand on my gun and my finger on the trigga
playin’ with my fab toys running from the bad boys
(trippin’) losing control, i never had poise
rugged and real, lovin’ this skill
game to my folks, hang with my folks, sw*ng with my folks
drunk f*cked up off 151, beat my beezy up and say “what have i done”
gorilla pimp, behind the tent gettin’ bent
on the savage *ss one “i was collectin’ my rent”
the mac guy, triple stack guy
killin’ them suckas that give the rap game a black eye
roll the weed up, somebody turn the beat up
while i continue to spit relax and kick your feet up
mac game so cold i make your nose runny
mac dre so cold takin’ hoes money

[chorus x2]

/ mac dre lyrics