Lyrics Young Thug – Feed Me Dope

Ready for whatever
Clever as it get
Do I really gotta explain myself

Weigh the dope up, cook the coke up

I need, Chinese molly, Hong Kong
I need, good drank, big strong
Durk ‘dem call me big papi, I get big cocky
Uh-oh, big molly, got my wrist rocky (uh-oh)
Uh-oh, bring the money on a big dolly (uh-oh)
They know, I’m a millionaire from freestyling
Uh-oh, good dope make my wrist talk (uh-oh)
Coco, watch me hit her with a big stop
Toto, keep the receipt, I’m a bad boy
Thirty round drip, ooh, he a mad boy
All of my diamonds clear, ooh, that’s a jag boy
I see Hermes belt, thousand on my tag boy
I was hustlin’ in the field with all I had boy (whoa whoa)
My mama shed a few tears but I wasn’t sad boy (whoa whoa)

Weigh the dope up, cook the coke up
Might as well just give your ho up
I got loco ho, but I shipped her out the country though
Ain’t no giving up, you already know how I give it up
Sippin’ out the coffee cup, my presidential face a hockey puck
I get wavy like a goat
Feed me dope, and I start seeing ghosts
I’m off the porch, I’m skippin’ court
Skip to my lou, trapping a sport (skip to my lou)
Ok fish butter, chicken cutter (okay)
Maserati, we get mozzarella, (okay) ayy
Go’n, you doin’ that wrong (out of here), Al Capone
Don’t talk on phones but we get dope money all night long