Fine Ass
Yeah
For real, baby
(Paupa got beats, makin' history)
You should let me put it on you with your fine ass (huh, yeah)
You should let me put it on you with your fine ass
I got paper, I can work you in my finances
You should let me put it on you with your fine ass
You should let me spend it on you with your fine ass
I got paper, I can work you in 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, ready to get some, yeah
I'ma player, so you better not tell your friends none (no)
They gon' know the deal soon as they see the Benz comin', yeah
From the L.A., but I've been posted in Atlanta (woo)
So when I'm home, you know I gotta keep the hammer (bah, bah)
LV my FP and bandana
Your last nigga ain't know how to run them bands up
If you a bad ass bitch, put your hands up (she like it)
Thumb them bands ass bitch, put your hands up (she like it)
Don't let no broke nigga DM ya (no)
Square cash make you look at him different, yeah
But lil' mama, I'm just tryna spend some time with you (yeah, yeah)
Roscoes Pico, number nine with you (yeah, yeah)
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 (Jon B)
Gave her the number to the trap so she can find me (yuh)
And if they tell you I ain't here, they prolly lying
Ooh, you got the shit, ma
That make a nigga wanna hit a lick, ma (stick, ma)
That make me wanna go get you wrist watch (yuh)
With them big rocks (yuh), that don't tick tock
Ooh, baby
You make me wanna fly you to the A
And just fuck you crazy (for real)
Do somethin', you my new somethin' (yuh)
New boots, new coupe, all blue somethin' (skrt)
Know I run them bands up, keep them blues comin' (yuh)
No cake on her face, she don't use nothin'
Let a bitch violate, she gon' bruise somethin'
This that "durag match your toe" shit (wow)
Fuck them broke hoes, they don't know shit
This that "you hold my bank roll" shit (yuh)
"Fuck up the store" shit, "my little hoe" shit, yeah
You should let me put it on you with your fine ass (fine)
You should let me spend it on you with your fine ass (oh, you so fine)
I got paper, I can put you in my finances (yuh)
From the gutter, I can show you upper high classes
Oh, fuck with me, baby
You gotta fuck with me, baby
You gotta fuck with me, baby
You gotta fuck with me, baby
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Do somethin', yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Two, for real, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(Paupa got beats, makin' history)
Gang shit, I tell you when I bang shit (when I bang, bang)
Hop out and then we bang sticks
Never-ever-ever on no lame shit
But she fuckin' with a winner (winner, baby)
A big tipper (tipper, baby)
Run up that bank (fuck up the bank)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
For real, baby
(Paupa got beats, makin' history)
You should let me put it on you with your fine ass (huh, yeah)
You should let me put it on you with your fine ass
I got paper, I can work you in my finances
You should let me put it on you with your fine ass
You should let me spend it on you with your fine ass
I got paper, I can work you in 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, ready to get some, yeah
I'ma player, so you better not tell your friends none (no)
They gon' know the deal soon as they see the Benz comin', yeah
From the L.A., but I've been posted in Atlanta (woo)
So when I'm home, you know I gotta keep the hammer (bah, bah)
LV my FP and bandana
Your last nigga ain't know how to run them bands up
If you a bad ass bitch, put your hands up (she like it)
Thumb them bands ass bitch, put your hands up (she like it)
Don't let no broke nigga DM ya (no)
Square cash make you look at him different, yeah
But lil' mama, I'm just tryna spend some time with you (yeah, yeah)
Roscoes Pico, number nine with you (yeah, yeah)
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 (Jon B)
Gave her the number to the trap so she can find me (yuh)
And if they tell you I ain't here, they prolly lying
Ooh, you got the shit, ma
That make a nigga wanna hit a lick, ma (stick, ma)
That make me wanna go get you wrist watch (yuh)
With them big rocks (yuh), that don't tick tock
Ooh, baby
You make me wanna fly you to the A
And just fuck you crazy (for real)
Do somethin', you my new somethin' (yuh)
New boots, new coupe, all blue somethin' (skrt)
Know I run them bands up, keep them blues comin' (yuh)
No cake on her face, she don't use nothin'
Let a bitch violate, she gon' bruise somethin'
This that "durag match your toe" shit (wow)
Fuck them broke hoes, they don't know shit
This that "you hold my bank roll" shit (yuh)
"Fuck up the store" shit, "my little hoe" shit, yeah
You should let me put it on you with your fine ass (fine)
You should let me spend it on you with your fine ass (oh, you so fine)
I got paper, I can put you in my finances (yuh)
From the gutter, I can show you upper high classes
Oh, fuck with me, baby
You gotta fuck with me, baby
You gotta fuck with me, baby
You gotta fuck with me, baby
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Do somethin', yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Two, for real, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(Paupa got beats, makin' history)
Gang shit, I tell you when I bang shit (when I bang, bang)
Hop out and then we bang sticks
Never-ever-ever on no lame shit
But she fuckin' with a winner (winner, baby)
A big tipper (tipper, baby)
Run up that bank (fuck up the bank)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Credits
Writer(s): Kalan Montgomery, Mark Popper Ii
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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