Lyrics:
Feelin' good, man I'm feelin' good
Finesse and then I juug
Feelin' good, man I'm feelin' good
Finesse and then I juug
In my hood, walk up in my
that's low as cocaine was
Martin had a dream, nigga, I did too
To make it out the hood, rich, bitch, off that stoup
So, I took it that thaw, and hit
Truthfully all of 'em spoiled, usually you're never charged
But somethin' came over you once I took you to them fuckin' BET Awards
You lookin' at artists
without the Medula
Hood rich, doing hood shit
That ain't no champagne in my glass, ho
This some Henny bitch
At the strip eating chicken wings with
East Atlanta Zone 6, that's my hood
That's my hood, nigga, that's my hood
Glenwood to Grountry Road, that's my hood
That's my hood, nigga, that's
In the trap house, in the trap house
In the trap house, Gucci Mane, check it
Choppa on the floor, pistol on the coach
Hood rich so I never had
realities we in made our music translate
To the Coke dealers, the hood rich, and the broke niggas that play
With them gorillas that know killers that know
hood now
In Miami Beach, it's rich white folks
But Memorial Day, you know who do the most
It's hood now
It's hood now
It's hood now
Yeah, it's hood
prime yea yea
Or more like fifty I'ma get rich or die trying yea yea.
Finesse Finesse
Get a bag get a check
Make it rain get it wet
Money power respect
What a shame, what a shame
Shame on a nigga that tried to run game on a nigga
This is it, boy
Stacking money to the sky, getting rich, ha'
Stacking
goin' strong
Finesse a nigga, bitch, we on
Laugh about it, make a song
Lifestyle of the rich and dangerous
I just wanted money, how the fuck I end
What a shame, what a shame
Shame on a nigga that tried to run game on a nigga
This is it, boy
Stacking money to the sky, getting rich, ha'
M's)
Got some niggas in the hood
They got M's, nigga (woo)
M's nigga (M)
Want them M's, nigga (real deal M's)
Young rich nigga ain't got no deal
I
pistol will flip over ya?
We the best at best you doin' failing
Straight finesse?
That's from sunset we rippin' up Cali
Fuck the chips I dip nigga?
Heard he wrote a novel, got labels, but you can't label him
Independent labels, they model him and they study him
Hood rich lingo, he model, but he not
Rich nigga still hittin' licks
With that dirty stick
Rich nigga still hit the highway
With 'bout 50 bricks
Put 50 thousand in the hood
I ain't touching
Hookie parties was the best
They tought us niggas how to finesse the fat fatty and the chest
Now we into nickel bags, dreams about Cadillacs and Jags
We
feet tall
Chopper make a nigga jump a 10 foot wall
Avian and gold bottles, this is hood royalty
No matter how broke, how rich
Nigga, never ever
Boomerang your bitch now I bet
She bring the money back
Graw! graw! toe tag
Thousand dollar hella swag young rich nigga
Finesse the plug for the whole bag
Im rich but im still a hood nigga,
Im rich but im still a hood nigga,
Im rich but im still a hood nigga,
Im rich but im still a hood nigga,
They say
or four birds, where I'm from we call you rich
I'd like to thank the hood, homie, you taught me how to rip
I'm so hood
I wear my pants below my waist
em baby I finesse em
Cash checks when I finesse em baby I finesse em
Roll up to the hood and bless em baby
You should let em check me at eleven
I
I'm an artist not a rapper
Not a capper
That's fasho
I'ma finesse that money ready
I'ma get that bag on god
Demon protected by them angels
Just
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