Fine Fine lyrics

[Intro]
Huh
(Yeah, eat it up Champ, eat it up)
Real championship right here man
These n*ggas can't stop the champ, man, you know what's going on
Let's go

[Verse 1]
Thought it was over, I'm back on they head
They thought it was over, I'm still on the meds
Four pockets full of that money, like Cede
Gun with the pencil and it got lead
Trapping all day, we ain't going to bed
Don't ask me for sh*t, who talks to the bed?
Draw with the sticks, how you want to play it?
Broke n*gga, you already dead

[Chorus]
Bad b*tch with me, she fine, fine
n*gga, get from 'round, don't waste my time
Counting up money, you worry about minе
Before I go broke, I brеak it all down in dimes
You ain't talking bout money, you wasting my time
This Dior not fit applying, when I left, had the di*k on her mind
Getting the money, ain't wasting no time
[Verse 2]
Beat up the trap and the pus*y like champion (Hood)
Hood n*gga, she ain't know I was a gentleman
Three b*tches, salt, pepper, cinnamon
Claim you a killer, then why I ain't dead?
Walked in the rap game, already fed
Kodak, they flash, I'ma spray it
I said, "Kiss my lawyers or talk to the feds"
You can leave on your drawers, I just want some head
Kickback, watching these n*ggas flex on the internet
When I see 'em, they ain't talking 'bout sh*t
I'ma feel like a bully, he look like a puppy
I see it in his eyes, he really a b*tch
I came up stealing and trapping for sh*t
Rich in the hoods and apartments and Vick
You was a doorman, the rap was your fix
Columbia High, I ain't hang with no clique
Can't tell you what to believe, n*gga, Bad b*tches rolling my weed, n*gga
Came in with the racks, I'ma leave with 'em (Yeah, I'ma leave with 'em)
I hit that pus*y like Creed, Gettles
Stuffing these racks in my Amiri denim
f*ck all these n*ggas, I know they ain't with them
Can't treat me like I'm a victim, I'm vivid
I shot at them rappers, I ain't trying to diss them
300 Spartan, got war in my system
Ain't scaring nothing but your fans, fake killers
Spanish b*tch with a tan, she vanilla
Ooh, shooters equipped like a Triller
Long live Rocky, forever my n*gga
Put some respect on it, n*gga
Shot me a n*gga on Gresham and went twenty west on that n*gga
Yeah, you a little specimen, n*gga
Free Trap Lord, they arrested my n*gga
Yeah, I get fresher than vegetable, n*gga
I run up the commas, you a decimal, n*gga
[Chorus]
Bad b*tch with me, she fine, fine
n*gga, get from 'round, don't waste my time
Counting up money, you worry about mine
Before I go broke, I break it all down in dimes
You ain't talking bout money, you wasting my time
This Dior not fit applying, when I left, had the di*k on her mind
Getting the money, ain't wasting no time