Finesse (Remix) lyrics penned by BossMan DLow, GloRilla, Gentle Beatz, music composed by Gentle Beatz, and sung by BossMan DLow, GloRilla.
Song: | Finesse (Remix) |
Singer: | BossMan DLow, GloRilla |
Music: | Gentle Beatz |
Lyrics: | BossMan DLow, GloRilla, Gentle Beatz |
Finesse (Remix) Lyrics
N!gga, yeah, n!gga
Big Za
(Gentle Beatz)
N!gga, n!gga
I can make the dope stretch, I can teach finesse (Finesse)
And I’m ’bout my check (Big, big, big), you better come correct (Come correct)
These hoes stay choosin’ (Huh?), trap straight boomin’ (Yeah)
I’m a pack mover (Yeah), I’m a weight loser (Yeah)
I can make the dope stretch, I can teach finesse (Finesse)
And I’m ’bout my check (Big, big, big), you better come correct (Come correct)
These hoes stay choosin’ (Huh?), trap straight boomin’ (Yeah)
I’m a pack mover (Yeah), I’m a weight loser (Yeah)
I remember breakin’ into houses, okay, where the cameras at? (Where they at?)
Now I got like thirty G’s stuffed inside a fanny pack
Plug threw a nine-piece, okay, bet, I’ma handle that (We get it done)
You ain’t keep it P? Okay, bet, stand on that
All these designer clothes, I look like a damn booster
Hunnid in a sixty, f*ck state troopers
Phone chirpin’ in the mornin’, bae, we roosters
Them n!ggas ain’t ballin’, bae, we hoopers
Huh? Bae, we D1 (Yeah)
We ain’t worried ’bout nothin’, bae, I got funds (Yeah)
Reup on some— yeah, yeah
Reup on some— shh, hit the trap, get it done
I can make the dope stretch, I can teach finesse (Finesse)
And I’m ’bout my check (Big, big, big), you better come correct (Come correct)
These hoes stay choosin’ (Huh?), trap straight boomin’ (Yeah)
I’m a pack mover (Yeah), I’m a weight loser (Yeah)
I can make the dope stretch, I can teach finesse (Woo)
And I’m ’bout my check (Hey), you better come correct (GloRilla)
These hoes stay choosin’ (On gang, gang), trap straight boomin’ (On gang, gang)
I’m a pack mover (Yeah), I’m a weight loser (Yeah)
These b!tches ain’t no competition, man these hoes stay losin’
They talkin’ gangsta sh!t, but I’m the b!tch you hoes ain’t foolin’
He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger, man you n!ggas ain’t shooters
You hangin’ with the n!ggas that bucked you for your pistol, you a brewster
I can make my throat stretch (Ayy), I can make a mess (Woo)
Each day ran up a couple hundred thousand, went thirty days no s*x
You know how lame it is to confront me about a n!gga through a text?
You know how fast I’ll turn your favorite n!gga into your favorite ex, ho? (Haha)
F*ck, abracadabra on your a$$
Stop blowin’ him up, he with me, lil sis’, we laughin’ at your a$$ (Stupid)
I ain’t puttin’ that sh!t on, I can show them what that sh!t is (On god)
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, tell me who that b!tch is (On gang, gang)
I can make the dope stretch, I can teach finesse (Finesse)
And I’m ’bout my check (Big, big, big), you better come correct (Come correct)
These hoes stay choosin’ (Huh?), trap straight boomin’ (Yeah)
I’m a pack mover (Yeah), I’m a weight loser (Yeah)
I can make the dope stretch, I can teach finesse (Finesse)
And I’m ’bout my check (Big, big, big), you better come correct (Come correct)
These hoes stay choosin’ (Huh?), trap straight boomin’ (Yeah)
I’m a pack mover (Yeah), I’m a weight loser (Yeah)