Finals 2
Wale, French Montana, Tracy T, Fat Trel, Rockie Fresh, Rick Ross, Gunplay
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(Maybach Music) We them niggas at the park, we just wanna ball Sellin' dope to get a car and don't know what it's called Niggas foul but the referees don't get involved It's the finals and my dogs came to take it all 2014 And them boys back I'm at the finals on the floor and that boy strapped 50 Stacks for the seat, bring the popcorn Diamond chains and my million dollar cross on Yeah they tell me that these ain't the streets to floss on I put your bitch on my list, and it's not long Runnin' down on niggas, they retract their statement I keep a bomb, I drop it like a compilation (Maybach Music) All y'all niggas claim to know me well Top down, I got your bitch's hair in a ponytail She never been to Tom Ford, nigga So I double back for that encore, nigga Yayo comin' out my pores, nigga You should see me and them stars, nigga Rich niggas don't test drive And double M, that be the best ha (Maybach Music) I let her count the cake up in my stash spot Put all her naked photos in my laptop We got a bond that we could never break She wash her hair with Belaire, that pussy sweet as cake Huh! My money on another level Huh! My money on another level Huh! She fuckin' ordinary niggas Your bitch be fuckin' ordinary niggas I took a break to let these lames get their thing off Now I seen the scenery, can't seem to get the cigar These hoes a free throw, Stevenson and LeBron I just let her below, in a moment she gon' be home Isolate the offense, nigga don't you hear me talkin'? And you know I watch more green Than like floor season tickets in Boston And we show off like Dolph Ziggler, let raw bitches get tossed out All I call is bad shit like I'm bashing Joe Crawford And these dudes ain't slick, sayin' you, is that you? Buyin' Jordans? But we know their set, like a Euro step Them niggas nearly walkin' So turn me up, I got it, turn me up, I got it Thank God for this hip-hop 'cause on ESPN I bombed it You can see that we keep our promise I could beat up, beat up, no conscience And ridin' with my feet up, my seat up, reclinin' Supreme up, my tee, and Moschino designer Believe that your female'll follow Better eat up, or be out 'Cause we at the Finals Swag champion, believe that, ring at the counter Huh! My money on another level Huh! My money on another level Huh! She fuckin' ordinary niggas Your bitch be fuckin' ordinary niggas I tried to let you pussy niggas eat My chopper pussy kill and put you pussies in the street Say f*ck the major 'cause I wasn't made for industry Sb be the realest so picture them niggas killin' me Let's get it, I got them same dirty niggas with me Silencers give you life but they make a major difference You play a witness, I heard you snitchin', you paid the hitter Chanel purses and red bottoms, I'm bookin' tickets My clip a 50, my money dirty, her pussy sticky You give her hickeys, I f*ck her, duck her and pass to Ricky My palms itchy, I coulda swore I just hit the lotto Safe house in Cabo, my Spanish bitch related to Blanco My blanket Morocco, my carpet is Cuban It's never ordinary, don't confuse me with humans 17 Fire, what the f*ck was you doin'? Your bricks were 30 apiece and 28 if you knew him Huh! My money on another level Huh! My money on another level Huh! She fuckin' ordinary niggas Your bitch be fuckin' ordinary niggas Limpin' like a pimp, jumpin' out the gym 6 Ring J's, every play's a win Countin' cash in the huddle, blocka, flash from the muzzle Spazz on a busta, beat your ass like a buzzer Oh Lord, here come the ball hogger They call him Gunplay, they call him Don Logan He a livin' legend, keep the engine revin' And the firearm, bring the fire alarm F*ck Donald Sterling, f*ck him, f*ck Donald Sterling F*ck him, f*ck Donald Sterling, screamin' f*ck Donald Sterling Load the clips with my clippers, tippin' all the strippers They bitin' on my belt buckle, grippin' on the zippers Snort a foul line, like it's child time Mmg, 305, our time Yayo, I'm like a hundred Hannibal Lectors Reppin' that animal shelter Huh! My money on another level Huh! My money on another level Huh! She fuckin' ordinary niggas Your bitch be fuckin' ordinary niggas Yeah reportin' live from a white Wraith Caught hands with the white base My number one shooter got a white face Talkin' ladders, we don't tussle, we just fight cases Montana, but tonight I'm Tony Parker Pop a hundred chains on, forest papa Chasin' dead faces on the blue paper Fightin' fed cases, you need law paper My money on another planet Talkin' fishscale, got the whole salmon Hop out, sound like heavy metal My money on another level You fuckin' ordinary niggas Wash head like Marbury, nigga Huh! My money on another level Huh! My money on another level Huh! She fuckin' ordinary niggas (Maybach Music) Your bitch be fuckin' ordinary niggas Huh! My money on another level Huh! My money on another level Huh! She fuckin' ordinary niggas (Maybach Music) Your bitch be fuckin' ordinary niggas Nigga gettin' bucks off of tellin' my story I come through in the clutch I'm like Ray Allen at 40 (Maybach Music) Hit the shot and I splash, smoke a blunt, then I crash I got a bad college bitch who like to f*ck after class She study for finals, I study the game These niggas don't know me but his bitch screamin' my name I be all over the union feelin' just like Dwyane Smokin' three pounds of the thunder, it go straight to the brain Just know the Bulls been the shit, wait 'til D Rose back Niggas ain't playin', they commentatin' like Shaq Two mil' on the deal, pull my ring and I'm back And the whole team winnin', bitch look at the stacks Open up, nigga, middle fingers up We don't give a f*ck, nigga Stuntin' hard, I'm just tryna get a buck, nigga Like Milwaukee, walkie talkie, where you at, nigga? I'm gettin' stacks, nigga Huh! My money on another level Huh! My money on another level Huh! She fuckin' ordinary niggas Your bitch be fuckin' ordinary niggas Pop champagne like I won a championship game I keep that powder on me, nigga, like Lebron James These niggas ordinary, Birdman, mercenary Slam dunk a tickin' bitch, I'm pitchin' out the Panamera Killed him in the paint, I swear to God I got a cemetery Ain't nothin' but bad bitches to smash on my itinerary 30 Shot'll have 'em flippin' like a patty And my bitches lookin' like, they fresh out pageants Aston Martin, ridin' rapid, woh Drop top, choppers shootin' rampid, peel the leaf off of your cabbage I assist 'em with that package when I pass it, fosho I post up with it like Bosh, defense I got a duffle bag full of them blocks, offense Bitch I'm like Ray Allen with shots Cheerleaders, bitch I got a tour bus full of thots Team full of heat, I'm talkin' Eric Spoelstra Yeah bitch, Eric Spoelstra and a nigga post up Huh! My money on another level Huh! My money on another level Huh! She fuckin' ordinary niggas (Maybach Music) Your bitch be fuckin' ordinary niggas F*ck Donald Sterling, f*ck him, f*ck Donald Sterling F*ck him, f*ck Donald Sterling, screamin' f*ck Donald Sterling Screamin' f*ck Donald Sterling, f*ck him, f*ck Donald Sterling (Han) f*ck Donald Sterling, screamin' f*ck Donald Sterling
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Written by: Karim Kharbouch, Matrel Reeves, Olubowale Akintimehin, Richard Morales, William Roberts II
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Finals 2 Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 8 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/7695/Rick+Ross/Finals+2>.
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