The Finer Things

Stayed down for so long it's only right a nigga win dog
I told em put me in the game coach and watch me handle it like I'm Chris Paul
Ayye the pack in bring them racks in, niggas know that we getting off
Might take a bad bitch and beat her back in, when I'm finished I send her off
I'm in the booth rapping but I'm trapping, I got a foot out and a foot in
Got gold on my lens, and these two F's on my Fendi it stands for fuck friends
I pay no mind to that nonsense, I'm too busy stacking for that new Benz
Got a lease on two spots so that's two rents, take my bitch out to eat down at Ruth's Chris
A nigga get smacked 'bout that loose lip, why you talking ain't talking 'bout blue strips
You ain't cool but you talking that cool shit, niggas talk about action won't do shit
I pull up clean like I move bricks, I jump out in all white look like cool whip
Might stop at Opry for some new drip, no I did not ask for your two cents

We work for the finer things
We smoke on the finer strains, designer and diamonds
New whip with the eyes and wing, pull in the hood just to buy some wings
Might charter a private plane, we finna' land on a island
First they were doubting but now they're believing
Might throw on all white for no reason
I run up that check through the seasons, seems like the only thing that'll please me
Inhale as much smoke I can breathe in, I had to pass it off it had me wheezing
It came back around like a frisbee, I hit it twice and that shit had me cheesing

I can't get jiggy with her she's too sleazy, she's slaw and she's easy
Shit on these dog hoes no feces, one of a kind you ain't part of my species
I'm on a green diet like I'm vegan, ain't about cash I go deaf when you speaking
You cut my skin and the juice gets to leaking, you vultures are probably gon' drink it
Smell the pressure through my pores I'm reeking
Swing the door the spot look like it's steaming
Twelve by the house and we still got it beating, soon as it's sold out a nigga leaving
Life in the streets get the deepest, can't trick me into jumping out in the deep end
If the reason you give your opinion a secret agenda then nigga you keep it

We work for the finer things
We smoke on the finer strains, designer and diamonds
New whip with the eyes and wing, pull in the hood just to buy some wings
Might charter a private plane, we finna' land on a island
First they were doubting but now they're believing
Might throw on all white for no reason
I run up that check through the seasons, seems like the only thing that'll please me
Inhale as much smoke I can breathe in, I had to pass it off it had me wheezing
It came back around like a frisbee, I hit it twice and that shit had me cheesing



Credits
Writer(s): Nathaniel Taylor
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link