Fine Ass

Yeah

For real, baby

You should let me put it on you with yo' fine ass

You should let me put it on you with yo' fine ass

I got paper, I can work you with my finances

You should let me put it on you with yo' fine ass

You should let me spend it on you with yo' fine ass

I got paper, I can work you with my finances

Fuck with me and I can show you upper high classes

Girl, you got me in my bag, I'm tryna spend some

Beat it up, beat it up, already gettin' some, yeah

I'm a player, so you better not tell your friends nothin', no

They gon' know the deal as soon as they see that Benz comin', yeah

From the label, I've been posted in Atlanta

So when I'm home, you know I gotta keep that hammer

LV, my FP and Bandana

Your last **** didn't know how to run them bands up

If you a bad ass bitch, put yo' hands up

Thumb them bands ass bitch, put yo' hands up

Don't let no broke **** DM ya

Square cash make you look at him different

Now lil' mama, I'm just tryna spend some time with you

Roscoe's, peacoat, Number Nine with you

Lil Skateboard P, bump and grind with you

You a real bad ting, slow whine with you

I'ma pull up on you prolly bumpin' '03

I'ma pull up on you, prolly slappin' Jon B.

Gave her the number to the trap so she can find me

And if they tell you, I ain't here, they prolly lyin'

Ooh, you got that shit, ma

That make a **** wanna hit a lick, ma

That make me wanna go get you a wrist watch

With them big rocks that don't tick-tock

Ooh, baby

You make me wanna fly you to the angels

Fuck you crazy

Do somethin', you my new somethin'

New boost, new coupe, all blue somethin'

Know I run them bands up, keep them blues comin'

No cake on her face, she don't use nothin'

Let a bitch violate, she gon' do somethin'

It's that durag match your toes shit (Wow)

But them broke hoes, they don't know shit

This that you hold my bank roll shit

Fuck up the store shit, my little ho shit

You should let me put it on you with yo' fine ass

You should let me spend it on you with yo' fine ass

I got paper, I can put you in my finances

From the gutter, I can show you upper high classes

Oh, fuck with me, baby

Yeah, fuck with me, baby

You gotta fuck with me, baby

You gotta fuck with me, baby

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah

Do somethin', yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Too for real, oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Gang shit

I tell you what I bang shit

Hop out on them basements

Never, never, never on no name shit

Oh, she fuckin' with a winner

A winner, baby

Right at ya temple, aye

Run up that bank

Fuck up the bank

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah