paroles de chanson Finish Line - kashak69

Yeah, holdup
Kinden on this shit so you know we getting lit
I'm working out, I'm getting so fit
I'm a big dog, call me Michael Vick
Stupid bitch no time for tricks
Ridin' all in that Tonka
She want the chocolate, like I'm Willy Wonka

Holdup, hop in a Phantom
They making fun of me, bitch I will damn them
I race to the finish line
That boy not smart, like Albert Einstein
This how it all start I be like "baby girl you fine"
If you really want this money, then you better come get it, right?
Yeah bitch on (fah!)
That bitch is a hoe, she hang with my guys
Pretend I'm not here, bitch she in disguise
I'm like "What's up?", she like "hi!"
She like "What?!", "you got to die!"
She only wanting me for my money
Might just buy me a brand new tommy
Finna shoot her up, beat her up like Ronda Rousey
Yeah, goin' so fast feel like Ferrari
I'm on a race to the finish line
So I can't text baby sorry

Run up with whole lotta sticks
Better not run up, I get the blick
You made me broken, so I need a fix
My nose is stuffed so I need that vix
That bitch know I'm him
I really don't got many friends
I don't hop on stupid trends
She know what she did, she got that evil grin
Baby girl you late, you said meet you at ten
This song gonna flop like a Dolphin and his fins
Niggas always hatin'
Cause they know we 'bout to win
Niggas can't handle me, so they get clout to win

They getting the clout
They getting the clout to win
I get a Glock with the attachments to match the fit
(Yeah, I got a match, all in the fit)
(Getting the paper, going rack for rack)
(Smoking yo pack I mix it with runts)
(Psych! I'm gonna stack it up)

I told Kinden to run up a check
Run up the check, run up the check
I'm going up next, you better go
You better flex
Hatin' on me, I'll make you regret
Yeah, I got Kinden all up on the track
I fucked your bitch, ha! That's a fact
Don't let 'em get to you, don't let 'em get to that
Soon I will be flexing on all these niggas
I'll be hopping in a 'scat
I will rock all blue, I will rock all black
Run up the check, I be like (blat!)
I don't give a fuck what you like (that!)
I don't even fuck with you like that
I'm in the cut, her booty so fat
Run up this shit, I cut at ya hat
Run up the beat, then bring it right back
Yeah, then bring it right back (bring it right back, back)