Intro lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana
And I had a dream
About my old school
And she was there all pink and gold and glittery
I threw my arms around her legs
(This the intro!)
Came to me, came to me
Welcome in your dream
Turn a rich nigga nightmare
Check, Montana, cheese, flip, dream team
Montana!
There they go
Can't fuck with us man
We the hottest in the game, how I feel
You ain't fuckin' with my team's how I feel
You tell your bitch I call her when I feel
Kill you fuck niggas every time I feel like it
Living for the knife
And I don't give a fuck if it's only for the night, dog
Feelin' it
About the time to go in
Nigga this that dope boy eh
Dog, feeling it
About the time to go in
Montana!
Start to do or die, not endorse suicide
Laws get you crucified, niggas choosing sides
Climbing up the ladder with a bladder full of drank
Work in the attic, mathematics fuck the bags
Can't die with it, all this money I'mma blow
I'mma stack it to the ceiling that Ferrari say hello
Baby mama drama, hundred missed calls
Niggas talking about their drama, I wake up in the morn nigga
Everybody whining, can I live?
Give a fuck about your mom's how I feel
When you ballin' everybody want a part nigga
But even your shadow gon' leave you when it's dark nigga
Can't beat it, I'm what the game needed
Told my nigga boss Don gon take it to trial, beat it
Nothing to lose, tattoos around my gull wound
Gonna point the best out and we gon' run through em
And they gon' get it how it's coming to em
His own mama won't recognize him, what is done to him
Back against the wind, just me against the world baby
Body numb, full of drugs, help my nerves baby
Montana Mike when it's crunch time
I done seen death twice, ducking 1 time
PJ's to the PJ
Can't fuck with us man
You niggas washed up
Niggas don't wanna wake up and look like him
Donkey
We the hottest in the game, how I feel
You ain't fuckin' with my team's how I feel
You tell your bitch I call her when I feel
Kill you fuck niggas every time I feel like it
Living for the knife
And I don't give a fuck if it's only for the night, dog
Feelin' it
About the time to go in
Nigga this that dope boy eh
Dog, feeling it
About the time to go in
Montana!
Montana!
Lay Down lyrics - French Montana (feat. Dame Grease and Mike Shorey)
(Lord be thy fine)
(She's left me)
(So cold, so alone)
(Oh yeah)
[Mike Shorey:]
We out here gettin' this paper, high as a skyscraper
I figure y'all should already know
The diamonds all in the bezel, y'all tryna get on my level
And y'all got a long way to go
Kuz I'm gettin' money
I'm ridin' and I'm feelin' so high
I'm floatin' man I'm right through the sky
I'm cakin' and it's feelin' so right, alright
[{French Montana}:]
{Huh (Huhhh)}
{Lay down (lay down)}
{My niggaz will take ya life (take ya life)}
{Huh (Huhhh)}
{Lay down (lay down)}
{My niggaz will take ya life (take ya life)}
{Huh (Huhhh)}
{Lay down (lay down)}
{My niggaz will take ya life (take ya life)}
(Lord be thy fine)
(She's left me)
(So cold, so alone)
(Yeah)
[French Montana:]
These old niggaz in the west, said they gon' get the Tec
And I hope ya rap friends don't fill the wake, peel the weight
M6, get away, know a nigga trippin'
Go and get some Grand Cru, I'm tryna chill and then celebrate
Feel the prayer homie, a tradition thang
Whippin' all them grams galore was the kitchen thang
Homie first of all, it's ya boy Mac
All-black GT Bently with the skulled cracked, fall back
You know a nigga can't call it, I might spoil it if I tell 'em
Stick up boys robbin' niggaz for they jewels, can't sell 'em
We flood the game and let 'em digest
Mindset on the older shit, these other niggaz in a contest
And I salute the dollar, pledge allegiance
Niggaz talkin' all this money, we don't see it
(Lord be thy fine)
(She's left me)
(So cold, so alone)
(Oh yeah)
[Mike Shorey:]
I'm out here gettin' this paper, high as a skyscraper
I'm cakin', y'all should already know
The diamonds all in the bezel, stop tryna get on my level
Man y'all got a long way to go
Kuz I'm gettin' money
I'm ridin' and I'm feelin' so high
I'm floatin' man I'm right through the sky
I'm cakin' and it's feelin' so right, alright
[{French Montana}:]
{Huh (Huhhh)}
{Lay down (lay down)}
{My niggaz will take ya life (take ya life)}
{Huh (Huhhh)}
{Lay down (lay down)}
{My niggaz will take ya life (take ya life)}
{Huh (Huhhh)}
{Lay down (lay down)}
{My niggaz will take ya life (take ya life)}
(Lord be thy fine)
(She's left me)
(So cold, so alone)
(Oh yeah)
[Dame Grease:]
Caddy all-black, rollin' on a sour blunt
Lot boy bigger, 40 Cal hit ya up
Lenox Ave gang bang, you snitchin', all them, homocide
Will erase ya kiss kiss, ran up on the jeep, see
You ever seen your enemy get his head blown off
On the back steps of his momma's porch
Oh, your daddy smart, time to put in body work
Come through in niggaz lobby, ballin' through the paperwork
Damn I beat it crazy, clap your only laby
Burn 'em with the police, nigga must be crazy
Get a nigga laid back, hit 'em with the tre pack
Leave his momma screamin', lettin' off a ill sound
Niggaz body fall, we took his bankroll
Four in the streets, you watch the drama unfold
(Lord be thy fine)
(She's left me)
(So cold, so alone)
(Oh yeah)
Mike Epps Skit lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana
[Mike Epps:]
Yo, this Mike Epps, big shout out to French Montana
Coakaine City, Big Jake
Sackin up a whole quarter key and all nickles and dimes
Knockin them all, from Thirsday to Sunday
That's right, like a hot dog stand
Bitches with saggy ass breasts and rusty ass knees
New York Minute lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana (feat. Jadakiss)
In a New York minute (Whoo-oooo)
Everything can change
In a New York minute (Whoo-oooo)
Things could get pretty strange
In a New York minute (Whoo-oooo)
Everything can change
In a New York minute
(Whoo-oooo-oooh-oooh)
(In a New York, New York, New York)
You can get your neck broke, face cracked, laid flat
And give everything that you made back, 8 clap
Make a sunvisor out ya wavecap
Pray that New York Minute'll bring Mase back
Shame that Remy took 8 flat, you know the game wack
And every last rapper here tryna bring the name back
It ain't rap, niggaz better stay strapped
Or you could call the stick-up boys, try to get your chain back
(In a New York minute)
They thought the game was over
When B.I.G. died, then the homie Hov took it over
(In a New York minute)
They shot Pac 5 times
Years later, them boys took Shyne
(In a New York minute)
That ain't even the least
Akon signed the hottest nigga in the streets
We gave swagger to the game
Still and all, everything can change
In a New York minute (Whoo-oooo)
Everything can change
In a New York minute (Whoo-oooo)
Things could get pretty strange
In a New York minute (Whoo-oooo)
Everything can change
In a New York minute
(Whoo-oooo-oooh-oooh)
(In a New York, New York, New York)
You could get your wig clapped, kidnapped, bitch-slapped
A 2 to 4 could turn into a 6 flat, if that
C-4 to your moms front door, gift-wrapped
Whole fanbase could start thinkin' that your shit's wack
You could be at the gas station and get ya whip jacked
Get yapped, pay a nigga bread, get ya shit back
Right back, everything could change, just like that
Get pulled over on your way bringin' that white back
(In a New York minute)
Rappers stopped sellin'
Kim did a year and a day for not tellin'
(In a New York minute)
Fox went death in one ear too, shortly after that she did a year or two
(In a New York minute)
I beat the case, not enough evidence
Get ready to see a black President
(In a New York minute)
You can download a whole album
Now you see where these niggaz get their style from
In a New York minute (Whoo-oooo)
Everything can change
In a New York minute (Whoo-oooo)
Things could get pretty strange
In a New York minute (Whoo-oooo)
Everything can change
In a New York minute
(Whoo-oooo-oooh-oooh)
(In a New York, New York, New York)
Stick Up Boyz lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana (feat. Max B)
[French Montana:]
Huh
Huhhh (huh)
Uh (uh)
Uh
100 grand, rubber band
A nigga low, a wanted man
Sure you're right, I know ya high
Talkin' crazy, run for your life
They can't believe, nuttin' new hot as me
Money can't buy the streets
I been paid, my men spray
100 rounds, sound like merengue
Or the Nolia Clap, it's only rap
That's what they thought, now it's 40 on ya hat
What's the matter huh
I'm the new breath of fresh air, like a asthma pump
Representing
My militant squad that snatch you out ya car that you're renting
Told 'Kon put ya leg up
Five stacks on the floor, watch homie fuckin' dig up
[Max B:]
If you hit me I'm a hit ya back
We got 'em on the Rose, Oww
If you stick me I'm a stick you back
I got 'em fuckin' with hoes, Oww
Make ya get 'em girl, gunnin', we down, we done stick 'em
Big Mac come they sorry they ever dick him
Cop a 7, we drivin' late in the sixes
Convicts, gun under the armpit
Ow Ow
Lightin' niggas up with the heater bro, my seat is low
They fold up like that Peter Rowe
Get 'em in the mood off the versatile, squirt it loud, baby let me beat
Kuz I can make it worth ya while
I can do it easy, sleazy, niggas speak and revokin' my bail
They be scared to smoke it in jail, well
I was weekly, creeply, sticks, smoked 'em at a fast pace
Kuz mami this ya last take
Came in, only dropped the the glee way, had 'em play DJs
Heat spray, we spray the enemies, Frienemies? (Naw)
Big'll wiggle like the centipede, yeah
I be in and out, I can clear the tenants out
I can clear ya minutes out with one conversation, waitin'
Stakin' in the hallway, pacin'
Niggas they be hatin', makin' shit that don't matter to the game
Kuz most of you niggas is lames
Ow
If you hit me I'm a hit ya back
We got 'em on the Rose, Oww
If you stick me I'm a stick you back
I got 'em fuckin' with hoes, Oww
Make ya get 'em girl, gunnin', we down, we done stick 'em
Big Mac come they sorry they ever dick him
Cop a 7, we drivin' late in the sixes
Convicts, gun under the armpit
Ow Ow
[French Montana:]
Shorty from the Lou', she take it in the cunt
And niggas talkin' crazy, I'm shakin' in my boots
A couple thou, I'm Mr. Childs
Street nigga, like Kevin Chiles
You got a V6, I got a 6 V's
My young boys turn ya brains to swiss cheese
A proper team, I mean badabing
With a model bitch in the back gargling
I'm so high, open cooch baby
I told Grease, let me loose baby
Coupe 280, flyin' through 80
R.I.P. to my dude Adee
My transition is phenomenal
Still hop out, cop tapes and Amadu
My lil' brother bail, 'bout a half a mill
French Montana, everything signed and sealed
[Max B:]
If you hit me I'm a hit ya back
We got 'em on the Rose, Oww
If you stick me I'm a stick you back
I got 'em fuckin' with hoes, Oww
Make ya get 'em girl, gunnin', we down, we done stick 'em
Big Mac come they sorry they ever dick him
Cop a 7, we drivin' late in the sixes
Convicts, gun under the armpit
Ow Ow
Reign In Harlem lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana (feat. Dame Grease)
[Dame Grease:]
Come on man
That pressure, boy
This that 09 pressure, right, French?
This is Harlem
The Coke Boys
Grease!
[French Montana:]
You need a fix, homie, the goons goin get you right
When it come to bricks, you know I got the systom right
Makin wrong turns, put you in the body bag
Lotta nniggas waitin for they turn, but it probly pass
Catty all black, money can't save you, when we put that 10 through your back
Bad blood, only when the streets fuck with you, you goin be layin flat in your bathtub
Masked up
I ain't the best lyricest, but that ain't my thang
No, homie, that ain't my lane
Na, I do it for the hustlers, customs, niggas in the crack house
Cuttin up, feds all rushin 'm
I did it all, didn't do it all alone, not a damb thing changed
We bang till it's over, homie, it's so cold
My wrist so frozen
7 60 L I, sittin on Chroam shit
[Dame Grease:]
Now agree with me, when I'm rollin through your hood
With the AK in the back, they say Greasey, what's good?
And I never ever ever scream peace
Still on the run from the motherfuckin police
City with the bright lights, homie, I shine
Caught the beef, niggas drop a dime
Now how many dimes can you drop, before them niggas wanna kill you?
Therefore I roll with the squad, the murder game's not for you
Niggas gonna blead, like the blood from the issue
I deal with your issues, I'm always gonna get you
The nigga need a tissue, the homies gonna rince you
Take the back door, come hit you with the missiles
Shootin all them bullits, on the east coast ridin
This the black Coke dealer
Me and the million dollar scribin
D price go up, the feends they be wilden
D boy from Harlem, the D boy from Harlem
Wake Up In The Morning lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana (feat. Max B)
[French Montana:]
Uh
Ya Boy
Let it Marinate
Hahaha
Look what the fuck we did man
We let Ya Niggas rock
Ya Know gave ya niggas the radio
Gave ya niggas satellite (When that four fif pop and you bleed you don't hear no noise)
All that crazy shit
We just stuck to the streets (You won't wake up in the morning)
Know I'm saying? (I'll put you in a box fucking with me likkle Bwoy)
It so happened we the hottest thing going on (You won't wake up in the morning)
Cross the ts dot The is
Whip a hundred gs drop the top
Drive through the ps cop the pies
Look for a skeezer I can find
Heat in the stash lock and load
Press that button lock the door
I know they wanna do me got my safety off my tooly
Fuck niggas tried to screw and keep fucking with my head
Feeling like do these niggas and just walk out with that bread
That street shit dented in my soul
Left the bitch wet
Drop step put it in her hole
Got the licks and the reefer smoke
You don't need a boat
That coke wave potent music take you where you need to go
Its like a Key of snow
Argentina with my bitch have you seen her
I'm tryna beat beat beat beat like Valentino
Father please bless my enemies for them not knowing
Shot me in the head I shook it off
Nigga Kept on going
Dead man got a voice
Getting head in a Royce
London boy said that nigga moist
Coke Wave
[Max B:]
Dollar bill and coca
I'm a everyday smoker
Love a bitch that's mocha
On the sofa
Still sound like to me like we got that wave
Oh not dour I'm a get you flowers
Time to get more money more hoes
Still sound like to me like we got that wave
Niggas buzzes turned out light
Fuck these bitches get there swagger from
She fucked me now he mad at her
I don't care
BB belt and a fly moncler
Yeah know a nigga gots to keep that ratchet up
Coke on the table bagging it up
Capping it up
Nigga I'm clean
Picture me rolling on rims 16
Picture me fall off with these flows
Dick many hoes on the pimpy mode
M3 note that's that new
Hat to the back in that black new coupe
Catch you duke
Man I'm made
About to touch a mill goddamn I'm paid
Maid come and clean my shit
Stressed like I always need me a bitch
Need me a dip
This ain't right
Nigga got to get that tight
Get that flight easy mac
Boss biggavel where you need me at?
Where are these birds?
Fuck you max what are these words?
[French Montana:]
When that four fif pop and you bleed you don't hear no noise
You won't wake up in the morning
I'll put you in a box fucking with me likkle bwoy
You won't wake up in the morning
When that four fif pop and you bleed you don't hear no noise
You won't wake up in the morning
I'll put you in a box fucking with me likkle bwoy
You won't wake up in the morning
Skit lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana
We recording dollar? Good
We recording dollar? Good
Aye dawg, I'm bout to beat my babe moms up
Ya heard? That bitch about to get beat down
Early
Ya heard?
The fuck she did?
That bitch is listening to that coke boy, I'm hanging with that
That's shit ya heard?
That bitch bout to get beat the fuck down
Ya heard?
Drop that shit
Mac N Cheese lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana (feat. Dame Grease)
[French Montana:]
Mac with the cheese, oh baby
Think about me, think about me
Sometimes, oh baby
Mac with the cheese, oh baby
Say a prayer for me, say a pray for me sometime
Lil mama do a nigga right
Smokin it all in, all my niggas fly sky high
We playin in the wind, play to win, don't pretend
Got my work and my pistol now, only guap-amoley in the Hefty bag
Haze in the 50 bag, nigga on the corner with a 50 slab
Ray Allen UConn, challenger the 2 tong
Breath of fresh air, like a newborn
Suit on, Montana right, fight the fight while sittin on the floor seats
We like 4 deep, engine 500 horses
I'm in the horse seat, that's a whole budget
What it cost me, 4 sweets for the freaks
Poppin pills, can't sleep
I ain't never off me
Paying my doos to the streets
They don't wanna see a nigga free
Free gettin money in the fast lane, my niggas in the sstreets
Fuck the rap game, hala at us
Mac with the cheese, oh baby
Think about me, think about me
Sometimes, oh baby
Mac with the cheese, oh baby
Said pray for me, said pray for me
[Dame Grease:]
The money so good
Keep it all hood
The cops shootin all day, we ready for that gunplay
That's Sunday, next day Monday
Grease count a hundred stacks, then he bring it back
In the slab rollin, rollin the blunts right up
Baby, take it easy, flip it like a spatula
Late night roll, I guess you go there
Drinkin up the creak, turn you to a bolder
Catch me with the Crack crew, Max and French too
We so high like ships, you call that a G cloud
[French Montana:]
Mac with the cheese, oh baby
Think about me, think about me
Sometimes, oh baby
Mac with the cheese, oh baby
Said pray for me, said pray for me
Henny & My 44 lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana
I never know why I left you standing in the rain
I never know why I left you standing in the rain
I never know why I left you standing in the rain
I never know why I left you standing in the rain
I'm anywhere the dope go (dope go)
With my Henny and my 44 (44)
With' your shorty on my land line (land line)
I'm on the money every damn time (damn time)
I'm anywhere the dope go (dope go)
With my Henny and my 44 (44)
With' your shorty on my land line (land line)
I'm on the money every damn time (damn time)
Weed out the jar, with the window down
And the ashes blow in back from the car, dog
Way before Lupe, pal was a superstar
I'm in the kitchen squarin' up like a shooting guard (Swish)
I play like I can lose it all
With everything I gain, nigga I just suit and ball
Like the G.O.A.T., change the dollars for the corners
Right on top of the backboard, got it if you ask for it
Through the task force, no tax for it
Got 'em for the low, you can catch the Macs for it
I ain't hustle by choice nigga I had to do it
Streets was cool 'fore they put the rap to it
I'm anywhere the dope go (dope go)
With my Henny and my 44 (44)
With' your shorty on my land line (land line)
I'm on the money every damn time (damn time)
I'm anywhere the dope go (dope go)
With my Henny and my 44 (44)
With' your shorty on my land line (land line)
I'm on the money every damn time (damn time)
They told me Hip-Hop dead, so late night
I'm at the cemetary diggin' his grave out
These old niggaz washed up, played out
Whip with no top, ballin' with the brains out
I ain't the illest, but niggaz gotta feel us
Buttersoft, you can't brush us off
I'll turn your switch off, homie lights out
Bring out your candles, whip like sandals
No top, PeteyRowe locked
A new blood, young nigga with old gwop
We did drunk in the Rover, dunk
Leave you in your driveway slumped
Fight, lose security to ER and we are
THe R-U-L to the E-R (S)
It's Montana, bitch (ahh)
I'm anywhere the dope go (dope go)
With my Henny and my 44 (44)
With' your shorty on my land line (land line)
I'm on the money every damn time (damn time)
I'm anywhere the dope go (dope go)
With my Henny and my 44 (44)
With' your shorty on my land line (land line)
I'm on the money every damn time (damn time)
On Fire lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana (feat. Fergie & Max B)
[French Montana:]
Imma get you home, and everything you want
Girl pick up your phone, I'm tryna get you home
You and me, I'm on fire
I'm on fire
Key to the villa, fresh out with them killers
Montana, buy that Skrilla
Catch feelings, we don't do those
Hit it from the back, kick her out the door
Hit my phone, ain't no fun
All around, that's a home run
Spent the whole month, flying back
Your bitch hit my line, my line
Shots of Patrone, on the trap phone
Feds at my crib, no one home
Home alone, bring it back
All the hoes love me like Income tax
Imma get you home, and everything you want
Girl pick up your phone, I'm tryna get you home
You and me, I'm on fire
I'm on fire
[Max B:]
From the Coope to the Benz, no friends
East coast shortey, I hit up French
Waist so small, snif this coke up
Ten mile long bankroll, give me the Cho-cha
She alright, she love the gangstas
She love my voice, I love her swagger
Take her to the trunk
Fuck the bitch, all in the tub
I be deep, like ships in oceans
She so nice, with that devotion
When I fuck, she don't even hit the clutch
Bigger than a buck, shortey don't give a fuck
[French Montana:]
You nasty, boy, you nasty
You nasty, girl, you nasty
You nasty, boy, you nasty
You nasty, girl, you so nasty
Imma get you home, and everything you want
Girl pick up your phone, I'm tryna get you home
You and me, I'm on fire
I'm on fire
[Holliwood Fergie:]
Welcome to the life of Holliwood Fergie
Chicks wanna cuff me, feds wanna murder me
Where you at, mommy, why you wanna hurt me?
Front roe, but you still ain't churped me
Got me circlin the hood like a pager
North to the south, I'm a real changer
I'm tryna get you to the crib, you know what it is
Put my dick on your lip, let you take a sip
Better yet, fall back, and let you strip
Get your handcuffs, and don't forget your wip
I'm Holliwood Fergie, I know you wanna hit it
Come to my hood, if you wanna get it
Treat her like Halle, treat her like Woopi
M O B, nigga, I'm a sucker for the nooky
Cross over here, I treat her like a rooky
First come to the league, bitch, hit your knees
[Max B:]
We did it in the Honda
She told me it feel better with a condom
Can't hit, till the game end
Snitches, we done rade them
You know I'm a beast, on these beats
Everything is all T B T
Teach me, show me the ropes
That's that thing, Polo
Solo, fuckin up a call back
Baby, I'm pimpin, I got niggas that's squintin
Tryna see what we do
[French Montana:]
Imma get you home, and everything you want
Girl pick up your phone, I'm tryna get you home
You and me, I'm on fire
I'm on fire
Money Man lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana
Look how she up and down that pole
Stripper bitches, got a couple singles for you
Just clap that ass up on that pole
Twerk, twerk, twerk
Now pop that pussy for a real nigga
Now do it, get dat money baby
Now pop that pussy for a real nigga
Go ahead and get dat money baby
Hundred dollar bottle
What the strippers swallow
Malaya Blacc Chyna
Shout out to Tyga
Red Bottom just to match the Rarri Spider
Plain Jane Rolly got them bitches on fire
Now whoever say I cuff hoes
I just break the band on the bitch that's on that pole
Pussy popping, got the squad turning up with hoes
Ace Of Spades, VIP, we see TV like show
Now oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Got spice red all on my shoe
We global like we on the news
Stay in the best designer, we be on the news
Let's get it
Came flipping, I bought it
When I came through in that foreign
Only fuck with them bad bitches, them square bitches be
Boring
She need five stacks on that hair
Coke, pills I'm on
Been getting money all year
All them cribs I own
Showty help me slanging fish to meet me at the yard
Godamn, young nigga made it hot
Showty bend it over, throw them bands on it
Came with a 100 large, Uncle Sam on 'em
We just spend it on the top like a ceiling fan
I can catch a rico of the Instagram
Wrist wrapped up, John Wall
Stacking money up, wall to wall
Closer Than Most lyrics - French Montana (feat. Tre Williams)
What's Gucci my nigga? What's Louis my killa?
I feel like I can't follow in nobody footstep
Getting GuWop
(You know I pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, at your head my nigga)
Young nigga, young nigga, pop pills, make mills, young nigga
Young nigga, young nigga, young nigga, young nigga
I think I'm 'bout to lose it man
Said I'm 'bout to go Gucci Mane
In the trap still countin' change
Don't fuck with y'all 'cause you niggas lame
Said I'm 'bout to go Gucci Mane
Said I'm 'bout to go Gucci Mane
On the choppa rant, on the choppa rant
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop
Still-a in that trap getting GuWop
Out the sewer, now my crib the size of Cuba
I be riding around with that blocka
We them Brick Squad, ask Flocka
Versace shit, Silk The Shocker
Coulda been San Quentin on lock
But I two'd up that ghost
I stack two floors that loaf
I be floor seats by that coach, I be fight seats by that rope
Lately so sick I could vomit, Gin with no tonic
Cheat on my bitch, you know I'm dishonest
But I'm just a product of my environment
Young nigga, young nigga
Pop pills, make mills young nigga
Got wrist, stay trill young nigga
Still talking that, still young nigga
And I ain't ever lose the chain
And shawty head stupid man
I think I'm 'bout to lose it man
Said I'm 'bout to go Gucci Mane
In the trap still countin' change
Don't fuck with y'all 'cause you niggas lame
Said I'm 'bout to go Gucci Mane
Said I'm 'bout to go Gucci Mane
On the choppa rant, on the choppa rant
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop
Get down or lay down
Shoot everything up but a school or a playground
Run shit like a Greyhound
I'm in here, now who let the Devil in?
I ain't been taking my medicine
My trigger finger ain't never been hesitant
I am your ruler, no measurements
You know I pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, at your head my nigga
Cash Money 'til I die, even if I go broke, I still wouldn't beg to differ
I'm off papers, I heart paper
No sharp paper, better get the point
'Cause I'm point-shaven with a sharp razor
Get buck like a horse stable
Too street smart, I'm a geek, I put my niggas on they feet
So if we fall it be that lean, that make a nigga fall asleep
I can't see none of you niggas, and I can see the future man
Where you going? I'm 'bout to go Tunechi man
I think I'm 'bout to lose it man
Said I'm 'bout to go Gucci Mane
In the trap still countin' change
Don't fuck with y'all 'cause you niggas lame
Said I'm 'bout to go Gucci Mane
Said I'm 'bout to go Gucci Mane
On the choppa rant, on the choppa rant
Pop-
Death Around The Corner lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana (feat. Max B)
[French Montana:]
I see death around the corner
Tryna survive, gettin' high in the city where the skinny niggaz die
I see death around the corner
And look and you can see
A nigga gotta roll up, get ya mind free
I see death around the corner
Lookin' for a way out
Better shoot first, or get laid out
I see death around the corner, I see death around the corner
I see death around the corner, I see death around the corner
I see death around the corner
All eyes on me
With my Eastside homie, got my.9 on me
If niggaz try to ride on me
You know it's my time homie, ya got nuttin' for me
Your btich is tryna own me
Ya know I ride by my lonely, all eyes on me
You gon' die anyway
A real nigga pick his time to go, ya know we tell it from the soul
If you see us then ya know all the hate keep us goin'
It's survival of the fittest, you ain't with us, nigga die slow
Gotta get my grind on, even though my mind gone
Outta here, whole different timezone
Mind on money, and hoes got me cold-hearted
Got all the money and nuttin' to show for it
Oh boy, when the feds take them pictures
And niggaz steady wishin' on ya downfall
Nigga off the wall like handball
Stand tall, lookin' down
Niggaz goin' to jail and comin' home with beards steady Muslim now
[Max B:]
I see death around the corner
Niggaz still ain't over Green Mile
Saving this moment before the meanwhile
I see death around the corner
They tryna get me while on duty
Tryna send me in the pen with a doodie
I see death around the
Know how it feel when you're about to go
Macaroni, yeah that's him on the radio
I see death around the corner, death around the corner
Death around the corner, death around the corner
Death around the corner
We got them hammers, it'll spray, the cannons in a case
Got a ounce of sour deez, we bouncin' through the trees
Got them bitches wanna fuck us
But po, they tryna lock us, but there the niggaz that's causin' all the ruckus
Knowin' they don't love us, them niggaz is tryna be a part
They lie, they don't wanna see us on the charts
We gon' catch 'em in the gutta, we 100, the don blunted
All you bitches get gun-butted
Show no remorse when we see you, my whores is European
Plenty ass, never holdin' them doors meet 'em, greet 'em
Then feed 'em, hit 'em with the dick
So many bitches and true they wanna sit and stay
The only thing I'ma miss
Is riding on you niggaz with a 5th of some Grand Cru while blowin' on a spliff
Shit, but I ain't tryna grip, the boat is takin' they toll
But I ain't tryna kid
I see death around the corner
Niggaz still ain't over Green Mile
Saving this moment before the meanwhile
I see death around the corner
They tryna get me while on duty
Tryna send me in the pen with a doodie
I see death around the
Know how it feel when you're about to go
Macaroni, yeah that's him on the radio
I see death around the corner, death around the corner
Death around the corner, death around the corner
Death around the corner
The Remix lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana (feat. Max B)
[Max B:]
I ain't tryna stop the ride on my cavalary
Niggas tried to body me and ain't nobody stoppin' me
I'm not tryna go ho-whoa-ome
Quarter mil in that Louis bag, shorty wanna do me bad
Get a bitch her do, he pull up in sixes boo
Double up on that hefty bag, I'm the best dick she had
In a long while, momma say all my songs foul
Momma say all my songs sound, provacative
"Mommy, how would you know? That shit you do is not marketed"
I'm gon' spark again, pour me cups of Cru, get me nice and right
Pussy, like it nice and tight, cookies, like 'em nice and light
Fluffy like them biscuits that my momma, when she pulled 'em out the oven
Smelled 'em in the air, bullets fly from everywhere
Bet he pull out a heavy gear, every year
I was sittin' in the penitentiary, look at what was sent to me
Letters from these bitches sayin' "Bigga you gon' have to go back in for conspiracy"
One thing wasn't clear to me
Cared to be, how can you niggas prepare to be something you van't see, smell or touch or taste
'09 ma let's up the stakes
I got a beautiful thang, mami I'm just tryna change
I'm in luv with' you girl, I'm in luv with' you girl
But I'm not tryna go ho-whoa-ome
I got a beautiful Range, nice pinky ring and a chain
And a nice freaky girl, and a nice freaky girl
And I'm not tryna go ho-whoa-ome
Now dippin' on that lean, got a half a bird
Drivin' up the interstate, dinnerplate in my car
Gots to break it down and bag it up, right before I hit the strip
Gotta move low when I tote that 5th, got a new flow with' a gold 4-5th
Rope that bitch, make her tell me more, basement under the deli store
I'm rarely hard?, better call the Champ Bailey dog
Pop up on the scene, it's like that nigga on a mission for some cream, reincarnate
Every weekend my mom stay
Every weekend she go to church, knows the earth
Take it from your wiz, man I know it hurts, when them stones is on the dirt
When them chromes is on alert, nigga you better talk like a G
Nigga don't be tryna fuck with me
Oww Oww
I got a beautiful thang, mami I'm just tryna change
I'm in luv with' you girl, I'm in luv with' you girl
But I'm not tryna go ho-whoa-ome
I got a beautiful Range, nice pinky ring and a chain
And a nice freaky girl, and a nice freaky girl
And I'm not tryna go ho-whoa-ome
I ain't tryna stop the ride on my cavalary
Niggas tried to body me and ain't nobody stoppin' me
I'm not tryna go ho-whoa-ome
[French Montana:]
They don't wanna see a young nigga do his thang
We Got Hoes lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana (feat. Mike Shorey)
[French Montana:]
Got 'em hangin off the rope
Live from the coke
Mr. Montana here it's the year for your folks
You say how could you predict it
When poverty restrict it
And old niggas clogging up the arteries
All I needs
Three bad bitches on my lap
Make it clap
Here baby take a stack
Get your hair done
Don't worry where it came from
My head numb
Weed smoke
Weed toke
I'll tella we ride
With the felonies homie
Get caught with it then without it
Drama got me riding with suicide doors thoughts
Tryin' to make it outta court
Got me beggin', for my life
Pissin' all kinda shit
Paranoid tryna tell my lawyer go all out for me
Ride with me
Do the back roll with my windows up
Homie and my hat low
Man it is what you make it
Backblock dice game rolled on
With the hoody on and the ice chain Montana
[Mike Shorey:]
It don't stop we on a mission
Young niggas been getting money I listened
How ya niggas think I got this position
Speaking all facts and fiction?
Don't you know Don't you know
We got dough
And we get low we get low
On that dro
You already know already know
We got hoes
Reek on the low on the low
We get dough
You already know
Goon Music lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana (feat. Beanie Sigel, Mac Mustard, Max B & Scarlett)
[Max B:]
Know we just spittin' bars
Boss Don Biggavel
Broad Street Bully, Macaroni With The Cheese
French Montana (C'mon)
Got the boy rockin' with me
Yeah you know we all just spittin' bars
(Sigel) Yeah
[Beanie Sigel:]
The Bully nigga, harder than Levi denims
My 45th, I'ma put long 3-5's in 'em
Twist backwoods, never put my haze in a dutch
Stay drunk off that shit Wayne keep in his cup
And I hate y'all YouTube niggas
When the cameras on, talk about what you gon' do to niggas
When the hammers drawn, you fold up and hoo-koo nigga
This ain't no song, dog I will do you niggas
Don't none of y'all want it with Big Ock
Hit you with the small Smith-Wess or the big Glock
Give you a wig shot, small knife or big razor
Open up ya chest like Vics Vapor
You ass, I'm the shit, you just constipated
Your flow trash, mines Switz, so complicated
Flow easy on the track like the Doctor made it
State P and Gain Greezy, you got to hate it
[Max B:]
Cop a couple V's, couple of E's
I'm icy like nuttin' but skis
Nuttin' in ya sleeze, get her knocked up
I'm a greaseball, heat boss, comin' full-speed, no free call
Both the mean way, spoke to Satan on the three-way
Had ya baby-moms playin' DJ (DJ)
We play, all up in the clouds
Dick all up in ya mouth
Bigga got the answer, stamina, Georgey, pudding pie
I kiss the girls, I made 'em cry, made 'em fade the eye
Off the water, slaughter
Daddy I'm raw, I can buss in ya daughter
Florida, headed out west for Diego
These niggas want seven, Chi-Chi go get the yayo
Coke all white like mayo
Halos all over ya head, like an angel, strangle you, oww
[French Montana:]
Yes indeed
My goons will spray up the room like graffiti
Homie only thing locked up, K's in the closet
Only thing you checkin' is the money you deposit
Talkin' outta line, talkin' outta order
Nigga outta line, I put him outta order
You fuckin' with them lines I'll get you outta order
My money long, I'll make ya day shorter
Like celebit, lions, tigers, pelicans
4-4 nose like a elephant
I ball like Bob Cousy
And you a cop-off Dooly, ya are movie
I'm the real deal, got your bitch on a blue pill
Akon gave me two mill
That's a whole lotta money in the stashbox
I'll push ya head back like a ragtop
Rock gators like the Florida mascot
Reach for my chain get ya head chopped
[Scarlet:]
Scarlett did things, I was gettin' 16 at 15
I watched fritz teens sell coke to Mitch Green
Young girl runnin' the street with tight jeans
Big dreams to get cream and whip things
Now listen, this gram pitchin', I had ambition
Watched my ex-man cook up in my gram's kitchen
He moved rock, he moved more bird than Padoodot
Federal watch if in get up you hot
Raised in the struggle, got my ways from my mother
I'm not easy to touch, y'all niggas won't touch her
Niggas had fun, but I'm, from the ball players
To the actors and rappers, I done did 'em
Got me nowhere, I ain't gotta go there
Biggy told me go hard, no fair, this yo' year
And y'all ain't never been through the struggle, man
And y'all don't know my trouble, man
[Mac Mustard:]
Cru got me leanin' like a lowrider, we're never slippin'
I slam a clip in and get the shit spittin' quicker than Flo-Rida
No, nada, nigga in this game safe
Call him Potato Head when I rearrange his game-face
Shake the league, referees spin and the game take
Karma take his Shuffle, get the name straight, it's Mustard
Spread it on the street, get his brains busted
Spread it on the heat, mark his prey as we speak
Fuck a hand-to-hand, grams of tan, any nigga, man for man
Talk sideways and won't guard, the fuck you think I am
I can get Frenchy and put a whole in a nigga
Or flip it like Maxi with dubs that blow for a nigga
Drugs to grow for a nigga, love to show for a nigga
Pull it out the pocket, and snuff that whore for a nigga
All This Gwop lyrics - Big Mike & French Montana (feat. Beanie Sigel, Mac Mustard, Max B & Scarlett)
[French Montana and Gucci Mane:]
Coke Boys in the building
How are you? I'm good
Montana, boy
Zone 6 in here
Zay's my producer buddy
It's Gucci
You know what we talkin bout, nigga
French Montana
[Gucci Mane:]
No one took no chances on me, and I can't stop
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
I treat her like a toddler, she's talkin' like my daughter
All I do is spoil her, she know that I'm a baller
She told my that she was bored, so I told her to go shoppin'
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
She told my that she was bored, so I told her to go shoppin'
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
[French Montana:]
I'm a G, baby
Three ladies
Holla at me, on the freeway
Hit they mouth like a Pre-K
Face on the watch froze, breakin' out
Taking out
Own enough ice, you'll be staying out
Homie fly birds
Blaze, French, done made it
Introduced me to the game, now I play it
Homie I'm a baller, you spoil her
She told me you don't talk when you call her
This bitch is out of order
She wanted these sticks
Wait, I gotta get you home, it's kinda late
A playa gotta escape
Homie can't front
I see through the front
Homie that's straight cash I stunt with
[Gucci Mane:]
No one took no chances on me, and I can't stop
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
I treat her like a toddler, she's talkin' like my daughter
All I do is spoil her, she know that I'm a baller
She told my that she was bored, so I told her to go shoppin'
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
She told my that she was bored, so I told her to go shoppin'
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
I'm in my pretty red thing, with my centerfold up
The battle of the bands in my goddamn trunk
The battle of the bands in my goddamn pants
Real bands worth 20 grand, there's 20 more bands
My girlfriend classy, she don't want no tall can
I drink mine out the bottle, she prefers out the glass
I never had a problem with them feeling on her ass
Cause I'm Gucci Mane, I'm flattered, though they try that, I'm gon blast
I know it sound cocky, but I'm better than her last
I never met that nigga, but he not Gucci Mane
See baby you the coach, and you should put me in
If I [?], baby, you should put me on the bench
It's Gucci!
No one took no chances on me, and I can't stop
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
I treat her like a toddler, she's talkin' like my daughter
All I do is spoil her, she know that I'm a baller
She told my that she was bored, so I told her to go shoppin'
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
She told my that she was bored, so I told her to go shoppin'
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
40 racks in the club, you know how we ball
Chest iced out, women full of alcohol
Pockets got the mumps, I got my swag from a boss
I ain't Kris Kross, but when I come, I make them bitches jump
[?] my breakfast and my lunch, but I won't make it for dinner
'Cause I'm in my new ride, half a bird in my trunk
I'm puffin on some stunk, lookin for a cutie pie
Ass sittin' higher than the sixes on a [?]
I don't like her attitude, baby show some gratitude
I'm lookin' for a bunny that I can give a karat to (Ring her)
Baby I will carey you
I dropped thirty-thousand and I still don't wanna marry you
No one took no chances on me, and I can't stop
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
I treat her like a toddler, she's talkin' like my daughter
All I do is spoil her, she know that I'm a baller
She told my that she was bored, so I told her to go shoppin'
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
She told my that she was bored, so I told her to go shoppin'
All this gwop, I got the girl spoiled rotten
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