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Westside Gunn - Finn Balor Lyrics



Westside Gunn - Finn Balor Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Smoke DZA ]

Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom

Ayo, Just Don Wolverines like I play with Webber
Crossover Fieg Pippens with the leopard
Next at the microwave floor, we 'bout to chef up
Get the sales off and call me serious and ketchup
Scarface Supremes, though we parked by the swings, niggas licking
I flew off the pitch, they hit a fiend, lot of cute
Cactus with triple beam on it, I mean
Four-door Ferrari, money green
Got my courts, beat the feds while I'm still on tour
Bagging up dimes, had the MAC on the floor
Chine Gun is my shepherd, loaded Desert
And for the record, I be the flyest nigga of all time
More grime it smothered my walls, more violence
Cooking yay on the gas stove, lit pilots
Raf parkas, Balenciagas making me look taller, ah

I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(Yo, f*ck these niggas, Lord, just left Monday Night Raw)
I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(Front row shit, happy birthday Ric Flair)
Came off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(My nigga Finn, f*ck Leo up)
I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(Lucky I ain't come through, smack Bobby Lashley in his shit)

Right, flying like Ferg with all this herbal in me
If I touch her, she pregnant, that bitch is fertile, ain't she?
Don't get antsy, it ain't that type of time
Trust me, baby, not tripping, it ain't that type of rhyme
Off the top rope, Finn Balor
Storming through your crib, mask on, sing Caroline
Kushed God, OG inhaler
Vacuum bag so much, I ran through ten salers
They running with my old flows
Mobbing at Mania, ringside, we cop the whole row
Ameleon Off-White my feets
When you see me, too sweet me, shit, life is sweet
Notorious for smoking out the suites
Penthouse player, check the deets
These ain't Carti, these Bugatti specs, dumb lit
Transition lens so it's shady when the sun hits
Stop the dumb shit

I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(Know Wrestlemania on the way too, right)
I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(I don't give a f*ck who win, they still can't f*ck with me though)
Came off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(I'll grab the back by his motherf*cking neck, nigga)
I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(Hit that nigga with my Royal Rumble chair, nigga)

You shouldn't've beat my nigga Finn, I owe that nigga one
I'm the black Mr. Perfect, nigga
I'm the nigga your momma love, nigga
Niggas can't f*ck with me, nigga
I'm on my fourth rope shit
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom

Ayo, Just Don Wolverines like I play with Webber
Crossover Fieg Pippens with the leopard
Next at the microwave floor, we 'bout to chef up
Get the sales off and call me serious and ketchup
Scarface Supremes, though we parked by the swings, niggas licking
I flew off the pitch, they hit a fiend, lot of cute
Cactus with triple beam on it, I mean
Four-door Ferrari, money green
Got my courts, beat the feds while I'm still on tour
Bagging up dimes, had the MAC on the floor
Chine Gun is my shepherd, loaded Desert
And for the record, I be the flyest nigga of all time
More grime it smothered my walls, more violence
Cooking yay on the gas stove, lit pilots
Raf parkas, Balenciagas making me look taller, ah

I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(Yo, f*ck these niggas, Lord, just left Monday Night Raw)
I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(Front row shit, happy birthday Ric Flair)
Came off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(My nigga Finn, f*ck Leo up)
I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(Lucky I ain't come through, smack Bobby Lashley in his shit)

Right, flying like Ferg with all this herbal in me
If I touch her, she pregnant, that bitch is fertile, ain't she?
Don't get antsy, it ain't that type of time
Trust me, baby, not tripping, it ain't that type of rhyme
Off the top rope, Finn Balor
Storming through your crib, mask on, sing Caroline
Kushed God, OG inhaler
Vacuum bag so much, I ran through ten salers
They running with my old flows
Mobbing at Mania, ringside, we cop the whole row
Ameleon Off-White my feets
When you see me, too sweet me, shit, life is sweet
Notorious for smoking out the suites
Penthouse player, check the deets
These ain't Carti, these Bugatti specs, dumb lit
Transition lens so it's shady when the sun hits
Stop the dumb shit

I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(Know Wrestlemania on the way too, right)
I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(I don't give a f*ck who win, they still can't f*ck with me though)
Came off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(I'll grab the back by his motherf*cking neck, nigga)
I'm off the top rope, like Finn Balor
(Hit that nigga with my Royal Rumble chair, nigga)

You shouldn't've beat my nigga Finn, I owe that nigga one
I'm the black Mr. Perfect, nigga
I'm the nigga your momma love, nigga
Niggas can't f*ck with me, nigga
I'm on my fourth rope shit
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Sean Pompey, Alvin Worthy
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Westside Gunn - Finn Balor Video
(Show video at the top of the page)


Performed By: Westside Gunn
Featuring: Smoke DZA
Language: English
Length: 3:49
Written by: Sean Pompey, Alvin Worthy

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