Whitehouse Studio, Babyface Ray - Niggas Finished lyrics

Yeah (Whitehouse shit, nigga, Whitehouse, Volume 1)
Yeah (Fuck you mean, nigga?)
I got a deuce in my Canada Dry, bitch

More money, more problems i ain't trippin'
 I can solve 'em i ain't trippin' 'bout
No bitch, she was suckin',  I was noddin'
First goal a hundred thousand
Second goal a half a ticket
So much traffic at the highrise
The boy done got evicted
I don't even feel comfortable if
I ain't got the blicky
Man, my bag a lil' bigger
So the boy a lil' picky
I got word through the grapevine
These niggas tryna stick me
And I don't blame 'em 'cause it's dog
Shit on me and niggas finished
Nigga tried to match a line with me
I'm offended


Half a line on a bad bitch pussy
Let me lick it ooh, that nigga ignorant
Don't got no manners in him
How you get the ball and turn
It over, where your handles, nigga?
I can't even lie, free the Don
I did some scamming with her
Switch to the orange, when it's done
Shoot to Atlanta with it
Switch to the town where it's fifty
Did some damage in it comfort got too hot
Goin' to the Hampton with it
I'll take the bird
Remix and stamp them bitches
Money on your head
My young dog going camping with it
Freak bitch gave me a headshot, man
I'm breathing different
And if a nigga leave the game
Would they love a nigga? (I don't know)
Moved in with the plug
I was thuggin' with him (My nigga)
Bag in your car the only
Way that I'm druggin' bitches (The only way)
Niggas out here buying expensive jeans
With no money in 'em (What?)
Loose Cannon give me shit for free
I spend money with him (That's my guy)

I'm tired of speaking facts, nigga
(Niggas don't know shit about this shit
Nigga)
I'm tired (Two hundred dollar pops, nigga)
I'm tired of speaking facts, nigga
(I spent two hundred on my nigga
Jackie Chan exotic pop shit, nigga
Fuck wrong with these niggas?)
Tired of speaking facts, nigga, yeah
(Big boy blunts of exotic shit, man
It ain't always used to be like this, though)
Ayy

It be ups, it be downs, when you down
The only way is up
Did a lot of things in my life
But never gave a fuck (Never)
Sold a lot of drugs in your raps
But never had a dub (Huh?)
I'll leave my pocket in this bitch
When I'm inside the club (On my mama)
I know I said this shit before
I wasn't lying once (Never)
Bitch, I got designer on me
And I do designer drugs (yeah)
Big League bubblegum, eight hundred
For the zip, nigga
Bag in, we goin' crazy, bangin' like Kemp
Nigga gloves on in the kitchen, bitch
I'm Gary Payton
Playin' with Bobby and Whitney
Smokin' Gary Payton
Just to gain all the fuckin' riches
Sell your soul to Satan
And stop all the fake love, bitch
I know you hating (Get the fuck on)
She gon' put up with whatever, bitch
I know you waiting (yeah, I know)
For all them M's in my future (Hah)
If my nigga Sauce don't trust you
I'ma shoot you
You ever rode a thousand eight
Grams past the troopers? (Ever?)
You wanna know the sacrifice I made
Is you stupid? (Is you stupid?)
Fuck love, shoot you in your heart
Word to Cupid
Get some money, get up off your ass
Be useful (yeah)
Or you gon' follow lead just
'cause other niggas do it?
You beat your bitch ass
She play other niggas' music (Why?)
You play my shit too, that's why
A nigga so confused, man, ha
(Shit crazy)

I'm tired of speaking facts, nigga
I'm tired of speaking facts
(Shout out to all my niggas
Made this shit possible, though, man)
Yeah (We on our motherfuckin' way, dog
The money train already done took off
Nigga full speed with this shit)