conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Finale with the following description: Finale, the last track on We Are Young Money, features verses from all members, interluded by T-Streetz. Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Intro: T-Streets]
  What it do, nigga
  This your nigga T-Streets
  Bang-bang in the building
  This Young Money
  First up, my nigga 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: roadkill
  Everything my hands touch turn to gold
  Money, knots, and jewels 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, nigga?
  In or out the booth, you could get leveled, nigga
  [Interlude: T-Streets]
  Now we gonna take it to Harlem, Millzy
  [Verse 2: Jae Millz]
  L’eggo!
   Yo, we are Young Money (Yes)
  Nigga, your camp chocha
  It's ‘bout to get real ugly—Omarosa
  YM vultures, it ain't a family doper
  We done changed the way the game look—Sammy Sosa (Ha!)
  This is life, this ain't a job
  The Audemars and Chapard just symbolize I go hard
  Navy on Navy Camaro, I did it all for the Yankees (L'eggo)
  Did it all for New York and this love, no need to thank me
  Millz! [Interlude: T-Streets]
  Now we gonna take to the West Coast
  Tyga-Tyga
  [Verse 3: Tyga]
  Ugh, fast money, I don't slow dance
  Young Money, motherfucker, 'til the world end
  Money overweight, bitch—Roseanne
  I don't listen to these kids—grown man
  Skinny nigga, dope though, ugh, Lohan
  Lindsey, the white Benz, same color Mike skin
  Make your soul spin when the ping loading
  Au revoir, goodbye, now applaud
  [Interlude: T-Streets]
  Yeah, now it’s child’s play, nigga
  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 you 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 to the bone gristle, you dig? [Interlude: T-Streets]
  Now we got the hottest nigga on the internet
  Lil' Twist Hefner, what it do?
  [Verse 5: Lil Twist]
  Ugh! Young Money, good night
  And yeah, I'm gon' shine like a ultraviolet light
  Lil' Twist gonna sell out like it's opening tonight
  Going for the fist nigga to write
  You need a telescope sight to try to see me, I'm so far gone
  Even though I'm going 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
  [Interlude: T-Streets]
  Yeah, next up, we got the best rapstress alive, Nicki Minaj
  [Verse 6: Nicki Minaj]
  I'm in that cotton-pickin' Bent, put massa 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 Jiminy"
  And it's going down like Santa in the chim-i-ney
  You don't ball, break your baby-back ribs
  You need more assist than the handicapped kids
  Oh, shit [Interlude: T-Streets]
  And now, the beautiful Miss Shanell
  [Verse 7: Shanell]
  Young Money, we’re rockstars
  So fuck with your Magnum on
  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
  [Interlude: T-Streets]
  Next up, my nigga Mack Maine
  Stupid Mack-nupid, one hundred
  [Verse 8: Mack Maine]
  Microwave family in the building, you can't hold us
  Me, Tez, and Wayne, we the three new moguls
  Buffet around here, y'all boys scrape the plates
  And we don't eat up in our whips, but 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 killin' shit, forever
  [Interlude: T-Streets]
  Toronto
  Drizzy
  Get ‘em
  [Verse 9: Drake]
  Alright, I got this, you can never get this
  I built it up from nothing, you would think I'm playin' Tetris
  Thousand-dollar sweater on, but I don’t never sweat shit
  Swear the beats they give me got a motherfuckin’ death 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
  And my team deserves some motherfuckin' Super Bowl rings
  Young Money
  [Interlude: Crowd]
  Wee-zy! Wee-zy! Wee-zy! Wee-zy!
  [Verse 10: Lil Wayne]
  I'm so in this bitch, CEO in this bitch
  Lil Weezy stand tall, tippy-toe in this bitch
  Blood Gang, motherfucker, da-da-doe in this bitch
  Make your girl get Barry Mani-low in this bitch
  In the body of the world, money is the blood
  And every day, I be back and forward to the blood bank
  Ugh, makin' deposits 'til I fucking faint
  New Orleans, nigga: How 'bout them fucking Saints?
  It's tight on our end, call that "Bubba Franks"
  Matter-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, ugh!
  [Outro: Lil Wayne]
  It's Young Mula, baby!