YNW Melly - Jesse Owen$ - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

19.12.2017

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Tekst piosenki
[Intro: YNW Melly] Yeah, finesse Jesse Owens on the, on the track, track, track Skrrt, pull up in a 'Vette Me and Stupid Dope the life of the party Skrrt, pull up in a 'Vette [Verse 1: YNW Melly] I ain't worried 'bout these hoes, I'm tryna get the gwalla I'm just runnin' to the money like I'm Zoey Dollaz That ain't molly in your swisher, boy you smoking flocka Put that forty to your eye and I'ma Fetty Wap you Got to bustin' after school, they thought I had a chopper Had the police looking for me with that helicopter I be fresh, I be rocking Gucci, Louis, Prada I'm from Gifford, yeah I grew up with them fucking robbers [Chorus: YNW Melly] Ooh, finesse, finesse Jesse Owens, I be running up the check, the check I know you want me baby girl don't try to flex, try to flex Just keep it real, you like the way that I finesse Finessin', finessin' Everywhere I go I keep the Smith and Wesson Finessin', finessin' Road running to the money, I'm progressing [Verse 2: YNW Melly] Ooh, finesse My ex bitch hate me, say she wish we never met Fuck a Jag, skrrt, pull up in a jet And I got gold all on my neck, that's why I flex I was road runnin', tryna get that cash in every way JGreen told me it was time to eat, I went to grab a plate If you owe me, ain't no buckin', pussy boy you better pay You moving slow, I like my money fast, lil nigga ándale Why you acting like a stranger, girl I thought you were my bae I ain't asking for too much, lil bougie keep that shit one K I be flexing and finessing, I be gleeming in your face You won't really light that shit right there 'cause that shit there ain't weight, hold up [Verse 3: OTM Frenchyy] Ooh, finesse, finesse Baking soda got me runnin' up a check, up a check I know you want me girl but put that shit to rest Ain't tryna talk to you if it ain't 'bout a check Eight hundred K, I'm almost at a mil They still ain't call me, tryna sign me for a deal That shit you rap 'bout, we be doing that shit for real You rap about the streets but we hot shit for real I'm a road runner, baby you can call me Eminem That's your boo thing, she be sucking on me like a mint Fuck a rope chain, hit the jeweler, copped a cuban link Bitch I'm with the 90's baby, sauce dripping like a sink She a freak, I like how she bend it over, touch her feet Bring it back, bust it open, let me see that pretty thing She a freak, I like how she bend it over, touch her feet Bring it back, bust it open, let me see that pretty thing Ooh, finesse, finesse Baking soda got me runnin' up a check, up a check I got gold all on my wrist and on my neck, all up on my neck She call me Robin 'cause I'm flyer than a jet, than a jet Ooh, finesse, finesse Baking soda got me runnin' up a check, up a check I got gold all on my wrist and on my neck, all up on my neck She call me Robin 'cause I'm flyer than a jet, than a jet
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