Bestie

FREESTYLE

I know ft rich larai

Goblin - Drizzy Tae & Lil Nor

gunsmoke town remix ft. LAGLOKK

"Welcome to the world of Feddi with his electrifying rap hit "Pieced Up." Produced by Mercy Beatz, this Rap/HipHop banger showcases Feddi's mastery of the game, taking you on a thrilling journey through the streets of Atlanta, GA.

As the beat drops, Feddi's energy soars higher than ever. He fearlessly delivers his raw and unapologetic lyrics, portraying the hustle and grind that come with the trap lifestyle. "Pieced Up" reveals the reality of his world, where drug money and countin' stacks are a daily routine.

The visuals in the music video here perfectly complement the intense vibes of the track. Witness Feddi live in the fast lane, flaunting his success and surrounded by beautiful women who can't resist his charm.

From flipping birds to flashing diamonds on his wrist, Feddi's confidence is unmatched. He's not here to play games and is only interested in the real ones. The song paints a vivid picture of a world where the stakes are high, and Feddi is in control, piecing up the puzzle of life.

Join the ride and immerse yourself in the mesmerizing flow and captivating beats of "Pieced Up." This track is a testament to Feddi's talent and undeniable impact on the rap scene. Stay tuned to Cairo Street Records for more mind-blowing hits from this Atlanta-born rap sensation.  Contact: thisisfeddi@gmail.com | cairostreetrecords@gmail.com | https://linktr.ee/feddicairost

Single: Feddi - Pieced Up

Pieced Up

Feddi - Pieced Up

Feelin’ Like Uzi

8 In The Bank

Sacramento

SMAKKA - TALK A LOT (Official Video)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YRWQmmxJzh4

CafialamafiaProd ♪
Lyrics: KDM
Producción: triazo

Fue demasiado complicado, todo salió como el c*lo. Fue demasiado arriesgado pero aún así no me detuvo, no, ni los dolores del alma ni el sentimiento vacío. Un mundo que me absorvía, una mentira crecía, toda mi vida engullía. Y seguía y seguía. Me obstinaba en recorrer un camino sin poder dominar con mi poder y caía sin poder evitarlo cada día. Pruebo fortuna otra vez y otra vez vuelvo a perder. Me desespero pensando, "ni contigo, ni sin ti". Lloro a solas en el cuarto. Desquiciado creo morir. Una noche, bien "cargado", decidí ponerle fin. Para seguir condenado, la guadaña a mi, a este oscuro desagrado, a este negro sin vivir y tantas veces morí y así, una vez más, morí. Que sueño que vivo un sueño y no despertar a ti.

DESPERTAR A TI

Feddi, born Demetrius Robbins, has a story to tell. It’s punctuated by pain, bound by betrayal, and has as much family drama as a Shakespearean play. But the setting isn’t some far-flung European city ruled by kings and nobility. Feddi is from Zone 1, Westside, Atlanta. An infamous neighborhood where life is a gamble, and even if you play your cards right, you can still lose it all. This is the hood that raised him, nurtured his love of music, and where he made his name in the streets. Feddi’s life story is worthy of a feature film–but his music has a documentary quality. And his story doesn’t just represent him. It also describes the voiceless people that grew up in neighborhoods like Zone 1 all over the world.
Tragedy struck Feddi’s family when he was just in second grade. In a story so gruesome that it was depicted on the TV show ATL Homicides, Feddi’s father was kidnapped, tortured, and ultimately murdered by his own cousins. “I stayed outta school for two years,” he recalls. “Like a whole two years, I didn’t go to school. APD sitting outside my house. Cause ain’t nobody locked up. Don’t nobody know what’s going on.”
Feddi’s dad, known affectionately as Deke the Freak from Cairo Street, was a well-known and respected figure in the neighborhood. So even though he was tragically killed, that respect and love extended to his son after his passing. “I had to live up to the name. But just being his son, it had me being taken care of. That led to me not ever having to worry about where I’m sleeping at. Where I’m gonna eat at. It wasn’t not one house in the neighborhood I couldn’t walk into. If I’m hungry, man, I’m finna to eat. It might be a different house every night,” he recalls.
Even having experienced something so heinous as a kid, Feddi never sought traditional therapy. Instead, he used music as an outlet to release his pain. “I cry the most when I’m making my songs. I might think of a line or something, and my voice might get to shaking while I’m trying to record. Cause I’m talking to myself as I’m going,” says the Atlanta native. “This is my outlet. I’m gonna probably do this for the rest of my life. Even if I’m not putting that out. Just so I can hear myself talk to myself.”
His earliest experience with music was born out of the ingenuity that comes from having to make do with whatever you have. “My friend down the street had a little radio boom box that you was able to press a button to record what you were saying,” remembers Feddi.” We had some instrumentals on the old, old, Xbox. Like the first Xbox ever made.We turned the TV up loud, played the instrumentals off the TV, and put the radio close to the TV so it could pick up the beat and pick up our voice.”
This was one of the first songs he ever made, and even though it wasn’t recorded in a professional studio, it was Feddi’s first clue that he had natural talent. He gained comfort performing in front of larger audiences at school talent shows. He was also surrounded by music in his own home, his mother was an accomplished singer, and his sister tried her hand at rap at a young age, too.
What further solidified the possibility of actually making his musical dreams come true was seeing someone else from his hood behind to make it big a few years later–1017 Records/ Famerica signee Ralo. “I knew it was real when I seen my brother Ralo actually get himself known to be a rapper,” says Feddi. “Me and him grew up together. That’s my brother. Both of us Muslim. And we from the same spot.”
That inspiration didn’t immediately lead to his own success, though. While more and more people began to recognize Feddi as an up-and-coming talent from Atlanta, he ran into
obstacles that kept his music from reaching a larger audience. “I’ve been lied to a million times. Supposed to have been signed a million times. And I turned down a couple offers too.”
Now he’s decided to take his future into his own hands. Along with his family, he started Cairo Street Records, a nod to the hood that raised him. “I’m doing all this shit with all these other folk. Helping them build their thing up. I’m like, let me go back to my own hood and start my own shit. I think I done learned enough and been through enough to know what to do now.”
And through it all, he’s still here. Still rapping. Still hustling. Still putting his pain into his music. Still speaking for those who can’t speak for themselves