"Da Finish Line" lyrics
Soon as I drop the chain I sideways look like I work at uh-uh-uh-uh-uh
Yeah uh-huh come on uh-uh-uh-uh yeah uh-huh
I see envy in they eyes soon as I drop the chain
I sideways look like I work at P F Changs
Through your purse I sold plain right through TSA
I'm at the bank every day I'm on the money chase
A guap marathon run the cash car race
Boy that drink that I'm drinking don't need no chasing
I was 15 with my own paper oh
Brodie got the powder in a salt shaker
Microwave master the stove pan
Ampedestrious I spray that bitch with both hands
Pop a bean I go eight just like go in
They like how you got so many bars I'm on fours ends
I'm in Boston with a nine sound like Rondo
500 for the bustdown she the hood Rapunzel
Smoking out of pee I used to chop up all the horns
These are hoes and I'm stankin' like he ate a bag of Funyuns
I been tryna move back
My granny told keep on goin' boy you're too gay
Stay with dog shit they like where the Scooby snacks
Got a body bitch a BBL hoe where your booty at
I can hear that pussy purrin' baby
I'm a big cougar cat
My slides are like Medusa shit push on the doula bag
You can call me rug but you can't call me rat
This a lamb truck baby this is not no track
I ain't beefin' with no rats you get put up in no pack
Talk to God every day I got the Reaper on my back
I be tweakin' for a heaven I be speakin' on the tech
Before they shot finna nine I put you in my vette
I wish we got Schmidty but they left the sick shitty
Ain't nothing on the kids gon' be less than 650
Hold this shit too tight I don't think the dick fittin
I ain't signing left that paper got one more than six figures
I'm a shit talker shit walker shit popper
Any way you want it we can get these shit poppin'
Double turn the tone I'm tryna hear the stick talk
Hit it lit make em dirty walk then beat the shit outta them
They still talking in little plays I'm on big doggy
Always walking with my chest I got a big comma
I ain't payin for no coochie
I take her ass to In n Out for six dollars
Take the three oh eight to the vet how these bitch holla
Lamb truck I was just slidin in a Impala
Crash baby but I still have love for my momma
Sixteen of that quay bitch I'm barely talkin'
Beat her down off a perc now she barely walkin'
I need to calm down
Take my ass to church try to get my sin down
Yeah I'm a walkin lick but don't get walked down
Fuck the guns I beat your head with my arms tied
Big bro used to hit the store till his arms tied
Can't even sleep all X geek and my brother died
Leave that phone at the door when you come inside
I don't play about my life boy this hoe could die
Ion play about my brudda ill die about him
Lost tiger I ain't have no time to cry about it
Suit up and I'll go slide about it
Please do not talk about this shit if you not about it
Don't be hoppin in this whip if you ain't hoppin out it
Yeah uh-huh come on uh-uh-uh-uh yeah uh-huh
I see envy in they eyes soon as I drop the chain
I sideways look like I work at P F Changs
Through your purse I sold plain right through TSA
I'm at the bank every day I'm on the money chase
A guap marathon run the cash car race
Boy that drink that I'm drinking don't need no chasing
I was 15 with my own paper oh
Brodie got the powder in a salt shaker
Microwave master the stove pan
Ampedestrious I spray that bitch with both hands
Pop a bean I go eight just like go in
They like how you got so many bars I'm on fours ends
I'm in Boston with a nine sound like Rondo
500 for the bustdown she the hood Rapunzel
Smoking out of pee I used to chop up all the horns
These are hoes and I'm stankin' like he ate a bag of Funyuns
I been tryna move back
My granny told keep on goin' boy you're too gay
Stay with dog shit they like where the Scooby snacks
Got a body bitch a BBL hoe where your booty at
I can hear that pussy purrin' baby
I'm a big cougar cat
My slides are like Medusa shit push on the doula bag
You can call me rug but you can't call me rat
This a lamb truck baby this is not no track
I ain't beefin' with no rats you get put up in no pack
Talk to God every day I got the Reaper on my back
I be tweakin' for a heaven I be speakin' on the tech
Before they shot finna nine I put you in my vette
I wish we got Schmidty but they left the sick shitty
Ain't nothing on the kids gon' be less than 650
Hold this shit too tight I don't think the dick fittin
I ain't signing left that paper got one more than six figures
I'm a shit talker shit walker shit popper
Any way you want it we can get these shit poppin'
Double turn the tone I'm tryna hear the stick talk
Hit it lit make em dirty walk then beat the shit outta them
They still talking in little plays I'm on big doggy
Always walking with my chest I got a big comma
I ain't payin for no coochie
I take her ass to In n Out for six dollars
Take the three oh eight to the vet how these bitch holla
Lamb truck I was just slidin in a Impala
Crash baby but I still have love for my momma
Sixteen of that quay bitch I'm barely talkin'
Beat her down off a perc now she barely walkin'
I need to calm down
Take my ass to church try to get my sin down
Yeah I'm a walkin lick but don't get walked down
Fuck the guns I beat your head with my arms tied
Big bro used to hit the store till his arms tied
Can't even sleep all X geek and my brother died
Leave that phone at the door when you come inside
I don't play about my life boy this hoe could die
Ion play about my brudda ill die about him
Lost tiger I ain't have no time to cry about it
Suit up and I'll go slide about it
Please do not talk about this shit if you not about it
Don't be hoppin in this whip if you ain't hoppin out it
