Drake - Finale lyrics

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Drake - Finale lyrics

[Produced by Angel Aponte and Infamous] [Intro: T-Streets] What it do, n***a This your n***a T-Streets Bang-bang in the building This Young Money First up, my n***a Gudda Gudda Double G, blap, blap [Verse 1: Gudda Gudda] They call me Young Gudda I'm all about the dough still And anybody in my way, road k** Everything my hands touch turn to gold Money, knots and j**els with no records sold, yeah I'm manhandlin' rappers with no effort So imagine what'll happen when I start applyin' pressure Guillotine flow, who ready to get severed n***a In or out the booth, you could get leveled n***a [Transition: T-Streets] Now we gonna take it to Harlem, Millzy [Verse 2: Jae Millz] L'eggo, yo we are Young Money n***a you can't chocha It's ‘bout to get real ugly, Amarosa YM vultures, there ain't a family doper We done changed the way the game look, Sammy Sosa This is life this ain't a job, the Audemars and Shapor Just symbolize I go hard Navy on Navy Camaro I did it all for the Yankees Did it all for New York and this love no need to thank me, Millz [Transition] Now we gonna take to the West Coast, Tyga, Tyga [Verse 3: Tyga] Uh, fast money I don't slow dance Young Money motherf**er till the world end Money overweight b**h, Roseanne I don't listen to these kids, grown man Skinny n***a dub doe, uh low hand Lindsey the white Benz, same color Mike skin Make your soul spin when the ping load in Au revoir, goodbye, now applaud [Transition: T-Streets] Yeah, now it's child's play, n***a My Lil' G Lil' Chuckee [Verse 4: Lil Chuckee] Young Money, Lil' G Battle juice in my blood Jumpin' at the boy, man, you better have your bungee cord Since Wayne took me off the leash, I ain't lose a fight yet Now come drag your dog out the ring how he love that Young with an attitude, watch how you talk to me Keep playin' Freddy boy, I'll leak on your Elm Street Trouble is what you want dog, pain is what you don't get It's Young Money till the bone gristle, ya dig [Transition: T-Streets] Now we got the hottest n***a on the internet Lil' Twist Hefner, what it do [Verse 5: Lil Twist] Young Money, good night And yeah I'm gonna shine like an ultra violet light Lil' Twist gonna sell out like it's opening tonight Going for the 1st n***a to write You need a telescope sight to try to see me I'm so far gone Even though I'm goin' off kids, I'm so far on I got a house full of chicks like the Playboy home Wrappin' up my lifestyle and I smashed this song, Twizzy [Transition: T-Streets] Yeah, next up, we got the best rapstressalive, Nicki Minaj [Verse 6: Nicki Minaj] I'm in that cotton pickin' bent, put ma**a on the guts White on white whips, Kunta Kinte on the clutch You at the bottom of the pole, Totem Like Lamar Odom I ball, scrotum Flyer than a cricket so they call me Nicki Jim-i-ny And it's going down like Santa in the chim-i-ney You don't ball, break your baby back ribs You need more a**ist than the handicapped kids, oh, sh** [Transition: T-Streets] And now, the beautiful Miss Shanell [Verse 7: Shanell] Young Money we're rockstars So f** with your Magnum And hold on, we go long You feel that, we get that We in that, we run that, we bust back We hit them and we see them comin' back for more Back for more [Transition: T-Streets] Next up, my n***a Mack Maine, Stupid Mack Nupid, one hundred [Verse 8: Mack Maine] Microwave family in the buildin', you can't hold us Me, Taz, and Wayne, we the three new moguls Buffet around here, ya'll boys scrape the plates And we don't eat up in our whisper they got paper plates Soon as we leave the club, damn there the models go One word I forgot to say on his album, Hollygrove This track is the finale, nah this the genesis Young Money murderers, we k**in' sh** Forever [Transition: T-Streets] Toronto, Drizzy, get ‘em [Verse 9: Drake] Alright I got this, you can never get this I built it up from nothin' You would think I'm playin' Tetris Thousand-dollar sweater on but I don't never sweat sh** Swear the beats they give me got a motherf**in' d**h wish Yeah, tell me who controls kings I don't follow rules, stupid old things I'm flyin' through the city in a coupe with those wings My team deserves some motherf**in' Super Bowl rings, Young Money [Verse 10: Lil Wayne] I'm so in this b**h CEO in this b**h Lil Weezy stand tall, tippy-toe in this b**h Blood Gang, motherf**a da da doe in this b**h Make your girl get Barry Manilow in this b**h In the body of the world, money is the blood And everyday I be back and forward to the blood bank Uh, makin' deposits till I f**in' faint New Orleans, n***a, how about them f**in' Saints It's tight on our end, call that Bubba Franks Matter of fact it's too tight, add a couple links I'm the bar's tender, you a woman drink Yeah, it's Young Money, but the money ain't Gudda tough, Nelly nice, Nick nasty Streets bad, Tyga ill, Drake magic Millz Harlem, Chuck wild, Twist Dallas And Mack Maine rap, sing and manage, uh It's Young Moolah Baby