"Finals 2" - Rick Ross ft Wale, Fat Trel, Gunplay, French Montana, Rockie Fresh & Tracy T [Lyrics + SoundCloud Official Audio]

Todd Levy

by Todd Levy

Published June 6, 2014

Rick Ross featuring Wale, Fat Trel, Gunplay, French Montana, Rockie Fresh, Tracy T - "Finals 2" Lyrics:

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
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 in them stores, nigga
Rich niggas don't test drive
And double M, that be the best ha!
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

[Hook: Rick Ross]
My money on another level
My money on another level
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 (blow), 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 kept 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 E up or Be out, cause we at the Finals
Swag champion, believe that, ring at the counter

[Hook: Rick Ross]

I tried to let you pussy niggas eat
My chopper pussy kill and put you pussies in the street
Say fuck the major cause I wasn't made for industry
Us 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 fuck her, I 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 fuck was you doin'?
Your bricks were 30 apiece and 28 if you knew him

[Hook: Rick Ross]

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
Fuck Donald Sterling, (fuck him) fuck Donald Sterling
Fuck him, fuck Donald Sterling, screamin' fuck 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 chow time
MMG, 305, our time
Yayo, I'm like a hundred Hannibal Lectors
Reppin' that animal shelter

[Hook: Rick Ross]

Reportin' live from a white Wraith
Courtin' hounds with the white base
My number one shooter got a white face
Talkin' ladders with her tussin', we just fight cases
Montana, but tonight I'm Tony Parker
Got a hundred chains on, foreign sporter
Chasin' dead faces on the blue paper
Fightin' fed cases, you need long 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

[Hook: Rick Ross]

Nigga gettin' bucks off of tellin' my story
I come through in the clutch, I'm like Ray Allen at 40
Hit the shot and I splash, smoke a blunt, then I crash
I got a bad college bitch who like to fuck 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 fuck, nigga
Stuntin' hard, I'm just tryna get a buck, nigga
Like Milwaukee, walkie talkie, where you at, nigga?
I'm gettin' stacks, nigga

[Hook: Rick Ross]

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
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
Like Ray Allen with shots, cheerleaders, bitch
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

[Hook: Rick Ross]

[Outro: Gunplay]
Fuck Donald Sterling, fuck him, fuck Donald Sterling
Fuck him, fuck Donald Sterling, screamin' fuck Donald Sterling
Screamin' fuck Donald Sterling, fuck him, fuck Donald Sterling
(haaaaan) fuck Donald Sterling, screamin' fuck Donald Sterling

The MMG team is back with a sequel to "Finals," a 2011 track made to celebrate Ricky Rozay's hometown Miami Heat reaching the NBA finals. After the original song didn't inspire a victory over the Dallas Mavericks, the Maybach team took two years off from Finals-related tracks. During those two years the Miami Heat won two championships. This leads to a stat all you betting folk may wanna pay attention to:

The Heat are 0-1 when MMG makes a song that celebrates them reaching a finals, and they are 2-0 when no such song is released. The Miami Heat's best player LeBron James cramped up and missed the last 4 minutes of Game 1 last night, right around the same time MMG was putting out "Finals 2."

The first "Finals" was much shorter, and featured verses from the Ross, Meek Mill, and Gunplay. The sequel, which runs 8 minutes and 46 seconds, features 7/10's of the MMG's arsenal of rappers. This time around, the song is sans Meek Mill.

In his place, we get Wale, French Montana, and newly signed artists Fat Trel and Tracy T. Both versions share that booming Rick Ross chorus, where he informs you that your girlfriend is not only cheating on you, but she is doing so with "ordinary niggas." Shucks, you couldn't at least find someone successful babe?

After Ricky's part comes Wale, who delivers the strongest verse on the "Finals 2." This is not only because it is full of wit, but also because Wale does the best job of handling the basketball theme. Hoops fans will appreciate Wales' NBA references, which include: The recent LeBron James-Lance Stephenson saga, Joey Crawford and his knack for causing controversy, and the euro-step.

Next up is Fat Trel, who completley ignores the theme of the track and delivers a forgettable verse about drugs, women, and violence.

After that we get woken up by the energy of Gunplay. During his verse Gunplay leads a "fuck Donald Sterling" cheer, talks about beating someone's ass like a buzzer, and says he snorts up the foul-line.

French Montana bats cleanup on the track and comes in with a mediocre, somewhat basketball-related verse. This shouldn't be too surprising, because while yes, French Montana is a big name, he has found most of his success with game-changing choruses, and not with memorable verses.

Next we have Rockie Fresh. The Electric Highway MC impresses with one of the highlights of the track. The Chicago rapper keeps to the theme, referencing both Ray Allen and Dwayne Wade. However as a Bulls fan, Mr. Fresh won't celebrate the Heat too much, plugging his hometown team saying, "Just know the Bulls been the shit, wait 'til D-Rose back."

Lastly, is the least known rapper on the song, Tracy T. The Atlanta rapper comes through for a pretty bland verse, with a few basketball references.

My ranking goes Wale, Rick Ross, Rockie Fresh, Gunplay, French Montana, Tracy T, Fat Trel. What's yours?

For all Rick Ross news, music, and videos check out his Zumic artist page.

Source: RickyRozayMMG Official SoundCloud

French Montana Rick Ross Rockie Fresh Wale
East Coast Rap Hip Hop Southern Rap
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