Carmine – Feeling Good Lyrics

Produced By: Nascent & QB
PYONG!
0

You pyonged “Carmine – Feeling Good”

Save Note No Thanks
Follow
Caution: You are now annotating this song as

[Hook: Carmine]
I got a feeling that we put shit down
And uh, I got a feeling that you hate us now
And uh, when I'm around you never make a sound
And all these motherfuckers acting like we ain't shit now
But uh

[Verse 1: Carmine]
Who copped a new spot, who's jewels got rocks
Who is, mostly BBC down to the tube socks
Can I pose in peace with a bottle of rosy cheeks
Spill out a little like Anonymous did with leaks
Synonymous, money making, picture me counting G's
Watch you get one like the alphabet, then snap, snap for tweets
Motherfuckers is dreaming still, hop out them sheets
Motherfuckers is renting still, hop out the lease
Last year on my couch, I done hopped out the seat
Rubbing elbows with money makers like pounds of trees
Put it down for all my people, people that's here for me
Putting up with little haters, that's a booster seat
Yea, what you got, what you want
What's the next shit you try'na front
Made in China around your neck
Fine China like this is lunch
And this ain't much, 250 over the socks
New titties under her bra
They looking real but they feeling fake, by the look of your face

[Hook: Carmine]
I got a feeling that we put shit down
And uh, I got a feeling that you hate us now
And uh, when I'm around you never make a sound
And all these motherfuckers acting like we ain't shit now
But uh

[Verse 2: Carmine]
Back in this bitch like what's up
Nothing good baby you must have missed us
Throwing paper around with some pictures of some presidents that ain't with us
I ain't been here doing this shit, so I'm 'bout to make up for lost time
With a watch that don't tick and a crucifix, tell 'em I cross lines
Cross laces, new pairs, go fish, oh yea
How I'm 'bout to drive a Benz and they telling me I ain't going no where?
Baby put that cup up, it may be just enough
The bubbles in this bottle give us feelings we can't trust
Arrogance at it's rarest, I'm blaring my radio 'til I hit Paris
And away we go, diamond chains so many carats I can't even carry it
I'm lying but I'm 'bout to be stunting, stack that next to your hourly something
Bound to be up in this bitch, blowing paper like allergy fits
Ay, braggadocios, bagging this clothing, packages open, that's how we rolling
Yea, the amount that I'm hoping, that shit can't be folded
Damn, and I'm here, drinking so much it's hard to stay in these lines
I see a bunch of motherfuckers that ain't even worth my time, and

[Hook: Carmine]
I got a feeling that we put shit down
And uh, I got a feeling that you hate us now
And uh, when I'm around you never make a sound
And all these motherfuckers acting like we ain't shit now
But uh

Edit song description to add:

  • Historical context: what album the song's on, how popular it was
  • An explanation of the song's overall story (example: "In this song, Eminem corresponds with a crazed fan who ends up...")
  • The sample used for the beat — use WhoSampled.com and wikipedia as references
Song lyrics have been changed by someone else. Copy your work to your clipboard and click here to reload.