Finals 2 Lyrics - Rick Ross

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 on 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 and them stars, nigga 

Rich niggas don't test drive 

And double M, that be the best 

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 

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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 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 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 

[?] cause we at the Finals 

Swag champion, believe that, ring at the counter 

Photos 

My money on another level 

My money on another level 

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 fuck 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 fuck 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 fuck was you doin'? 

Your bricks were 30 apiece and 28 if you knew him 

My money on another level 

My money on another level 

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 

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 child time 

MMG, 305, our time 

Yayo, I'm like a hundred Hannibal Lectors 

Reppin' that animal shelter 

My money on another level 

My money on another level 

She fuckin' ordinary niggas 

Your bitch be fuckin' ordinary niggas 

Reportin' live from a white Wraith 

[?] with the white base 

My number one shooter got a white face 

Talkin' ladders with her [?], we just fight cases 

Montana, but tonight I'm Tony Parker 

Got a hundred chains on, [?] 

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 

My money on another level 

My money on another level 

She fuckin' ordinary niggas 

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 

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 

My money on another level 

My money on another level 

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 

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 

My money on another level 

My money on another level 

She fuckin' ordinary niggas 

Your bitch be fuckin' ordinary niggas 

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