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French Montana - Montana Album Lyrics



French Montana - Montana Lyrics






Montana

Oh, yeah
Oh, yeah
Everything, everything, everything gon' be alright
Oh, yeah
Coke boy, baby

Han, yeah
Graduated, but I'm aggravated
From the half that made it, we was drinkin', faded
Me, and life and death is half-related (h-half-related)
Masturbatin' on a scale for a hundred million
Askin' God how we made it
Watchin' John David Robinson, now my dawg robbin' son
Half a David, freedom got confiscated
We mob-relate, John Gotti, RICO, life like a free throw
Yeah, school of gladiators, makin' Salaat on a fox rug
Black glove, hot slug for these cold women
Militant like the Middle East, go from menages
69's to 6ix9ine conspiracies
Triple threat, trinity
Triangle offense, label execs, get all the profit
They hit your brain, mop it, clean
What type of fiend?
Put the needle in your ass, keep they table green
Multi-millionaire, strapped like Oda
Can't teach new tricks to old dog (bom-bom-bom)

I told mama, "Pray for me, baby, wait here for me"
Got a cage waitin' for me
The hate, came from me
Millions I made from it, them chains, waitin' for me
Change, I made from it, Montana ain't a dummy, uh

New year, half a mil', face on the bill (bill), hit Cabo chill
Desperado with an AR like guitar, Montana John Stark
If there's a movie, I'll play the Al Pacino part
Mama raise a star, and you been a mark
Not even Cuban, smokin' Cuban cigars in Cuba
Lost Chinx, lost Max, lost Penthouse
Drink and smoke and feel empty in this penthouse (ah)
Mansions like a camp, ranches like rainbow smoke, 41 shots like Diego
Shoutout to Abel, I turn the weekends to the weekdays
PJs to the PJs, the week like four nights and three days
Yes, I big like the kid from Bed-Stuy, just us
Stylist, I be dressin' 'em, the bitches don't be stressin'
Money with the best of them, C.R.E.A.M. like Meth and 'em
I made it even in the game of odd
Everybody kickin' game, tell the bitch the truth, she think you God

Tell mama to pray for me, feds got a name for me
Cell waitin' for me
Mils' I made from it, them chains, waitin' for me
Change, I made from it, Montana ain't a dummy, han

La música de Harry Fraud
It's starting to take me higher
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Harry Fraud, Karim Kharbouch, Mejdi Rhars
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Suicide Doors

La música de Harry Fraud
Call her friend, let's have a ménage, oh
From the bottom, straight to the top, oh

We chop that work, we got that work
Box that work, she got that work
She got that work, my diamonds twerk
Them haters hurt when them tables turn
Suicide (suicide doors)
Suicide (suicide doors)
Suicide (suicide doors)
Suicide (suicide doors)

Who got that work? (Who got that work?)
Who got that work? (Who got that work?)
Came out the dirt (came out the dirt)
I move that work, dawg
Your pockets hurt (your pockets hurt)
My car got curtains (dawg)
Her pussy squirt (her pussy squirt)
I f*cked her like a dog
Bought her pink diamonds 'cause my bitch look like a doll (doll)
The head so good, made me overlook all of her flaws (flaws)
Don't panic, I got suicidal doors on my cars (cars)
Tell Elliot this water that I wear could look like Voss (we got that work)
I'm in Fiji, drippin' 'cross the globe (box that work)
Minks and chinchillas on my niggas and my hoes (we got that work)
Yeah, took the top off for the winter like I'm Hov (we got that work)
Yeah, put the vibes all in the Sprinter for the road (road)
Ain't no switchin', all my niggas stickin' to the code (code)
My man 'dem, that's my main man, get this shit in by the load (load)
Told her put that cocaína color on her toes (on her toes)
And the bitch backed up with suicidal doors

We chop that work, we got that work
Box that work, she got that work
She got that work, my diamonds twerk
Them haters hurt when them tables turn
(Who got that work?)
Suicide (suicide doors)
(Who got that work?)
Suicide (suicide doors)
(Came out the dirt)
Suicide (suicide doors)
(I put in work)
Suicide (suicide doors)

Before I chase a ho, I hug my baby close
Right before you blink your eye, I'm on a different coast
I'm on that pot, wrist Lucas
I direct the movies
Phantoms from the hoopties
Hah, that cash money, Juvie
That's a wrap, doobie
I'm on the hills, Fugees
Drop top on roofies
Caesar pals with Judas, hah
Hey, you know that boy check fatal (hey)
Why you think his face like a bagel?
Choppin' down the work, dime a piece
My diamonds jumpin' like Dominique (bling)
Water blue ice, rest in peace to Eazy (skrrt)
Choppin' down an onion, my eyes Filipin'

We chop that work, we got that work
Box that work, she got that work
She got that work, my diamonds twerk
Them haters hurt when them tables turn
(Who got that work?)
Suicide (suicide doors)
(Who got that work?)
Suicide (suicide doors)
(Came out the dirt)
Suicide (suicide doors)
(I put in work)
Suicide (suicide doors)

Call her friend, let's have a ménage, oh
From the bottom, straight to the top, oh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Karim Kharbouch, Rory Quigley, Sergio Kitchens
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




50s and 100s

Who run it? (South Bronx)
Who run it? (North Memphis, let me chirp these fools)
Who run it?

French got weed (hoe)
French got pills (hoe)
French got that work, on the corner cutting deals (hoe)
French know you haters out there talking ain't for real (hoe)
Never had a job, but we sitting on a mil' (hoe)
Bitch, I will not stop
From the back blocks
I'll get you whacked, topped
Watch, watch the ash drop
Drinking French vodka (vodka)
Riding with the blocka (blocka)
Wearin' three-quarter mink, 'chilla and Chewbacca ('Bacca)
I saw your main girl, and a player had to stop her (stop her)
Her name wasn't Silk, but her face was the shocker
Work, work, bust it down
Work, work, bust it down
Wrist, bust 'em down
Bad bitches, bust 'em down
Work, flush 'em down
Ain't nothing like a movie
Hit 'em on the chirp (chirp)
You know they gon' do it with the
Who run it?
Fifties, hundreds
Fifties, hundreds
For the ten, twenties, fifties

For the fifties, hundreds, she gon' for sure split it
Tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds, she gon' for sure split it
For the fifties, hundreds, she gon' for sure split it
Tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds, she gon' for sure split it

Gave a king charge to my kinfolk
He stood ten toes, for you, this intro
F*ck a bankroll, I need a bank full
My bitch on E, but my tank full
I fell in love with your BM in that Bimmer
I fell in love, Aston Martin, word to Gina
I can't see 'em
Slick Rick with the patch on
Gotta no cap the roof, got my cap on
Baby, I can't see 'em
That bitch a deuce, I can't see 'em
That Biggie, Juice, I can't see 'em
French the truth, I can't see 'em
That's word to Luke, I got the gasoline, I light a match on
Montana hop out with the blocka, blocka, blocka

Never send a boy to do a man's job
If it was me, I would've left him with a headshot
How the f*ck you get your own mans robbed?
Before you see me again, you get that red dot
I will not stop, f*ck the opp cops
And whoever f*ck with 'em, we cannot rock
I will not stop, even if that block hotter
Than my mama be up in the kitchen with that Crock-Pot (whip it, whip it)
Yeah, mama kept me clean, now I'm filthy (I'm filthy)
Bank account say something silly (silly)
Ice on bright, we litty (we litty)
I'm a bad boy, P-Diddy

For the fifties, hundreds, she gon' for sure split it
Tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds, she gon' for sure split it
For the fifties, hundreds, she gon' for sure split it
Tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds, she gon' for sure split it (shut the f*ck up)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Karim Kharbouch, Jordan Houston, Rakim Mayers, Sir Robert Bryson Hall, Patrick Houston, Darnell Carlton, Paul Beauregard
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




What it Look Like

Tonight's one of all the cash money
Let's give 'em a big round of applause, make 'em dance, man
(Coke Boy, baby)
What it look like? (This is)
Montana

You know I run the city, bad bitches with me (with me)
Pull up with fifty foreigns, what it look like? (What it look like?)
Hit the club up, what it look like? (What it look like?)
Hit your block up, what it look like? (What it look like?)
What it look like? (What it look like?)
What it look like? (What it look like?)
I saw a hundred mil' in cash, what it look like? (What it look like?)
And make you do the dash, what it look like? (Haan)

You saw me from the bottom, what it look like?
Ayy, clear ice help me cool out (cool out, cool out)
Sippin' blue dot, hoppin' off jets in Dubai (Dubai, Dubai)
They ask me what it look like (what it look like?)
You saw me from the bottom, what it look like? (What it look like?)
Pull up with fifty foreigns, what it look like? (Skrrt, skrrt)
Saw me on the G5, what it look like? (G5)
God had a plan for me, what it look like? (Inshallah)
Crackers want me to curve the fam, what I look like?

What it look like?
What it look like? (Coke Boy, baby)
What it look like?
What it look like?

We been through Sahara Desert, what it look like? (What it look like?)
Make you appreciate the white sand
Had to take off like Quavo right hand (yeah)
I mixed the wrong plants, what it look like?
Make you appreciate the right plan
I bought a gold Lamborghini cash, what it look like?
Silver when it go fast, ayy (vroom)
I'm a mastermind (mastermind), magnified (magnified)
Arthur Ashe mixed with Einstein, what it look like?
Montana serve 'em for the cash, what it look like?
They gave Max seven-five (seven-five), what it look like?
The Wave is gon' die? What I look like? (Free the Wave)
I'm John Wick with the suit on, what it look like? (Woo)
I'll ride for my dawg, what it look like? (Woo)
I ain't get it one pot, what it look like? (What it look like?)
Piece by piece, what it look like?
You know we run the city, bad bitches with me (with me)

Pull up in fifty foreigns, what it look like?
Hit your block up, what it look like?
You saw me from the bottom, what it look like? (What it look like?)
God had a plan for me, what it look like? (What it look like?)
What it look like? (What it look like?)
What it look like? (What it look like?)
What it look like? (What it look like?)
What it look like? (Hah?)

Niggas say I went Hollywood, what it look like?
Nigga, I did, what it look like?
Haan, what it look like?
I know you like, "You heard what he said?" What it look like? (What it look like?)
You want me to stay in the hood, huh? What it look like? (Huh?)

That's a f*ckin'
Yeah, I got your ass good
That was a good one, that was a good one
That was a good one, you bitch
You bitch
Ah (French Montana)
Montana (they ain't gon' like you)
That what that look like
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andre Christopher Lyon, Jonathan King, Karim Kharbouch, Marcello Valenzano, Ryan Cartagena
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Lifestyle

Ha, she want a hot boy
Ha, she want a hot boy (big haha)
Ha, she want a hot boy (Montana)
She want a hot boy
(All that ass, that's illegal)
She want a hot boy
She want a hot boy
(All that ass, that's illegal)
She want a hot boy
She want a hot boy

Came form the bottom like loose change, han
Drop it high, drop it low for that loose change, han
Got my main, got my old, got my new ting, han
I ain't mad at you baby, do the groove thing, han

Lifestyle, Sniper Gang lifestyle

She like my style, I just might take it all
Lifestyle, gold mouth, dawg, iced out
Lifestyle, check my lifestyle

Hot boy, yeah, they love a hot boy
Money in and out 'cause I'm fresh from out the block boy, ha
24k gold watch
Pull up to the dealer whole crew coping
It's going down, small face, big face (hot)
It's going down, fat ass, small waist (hot)
It's going down, French Vanilla, no chase (hot)
It's going down, black, white, yellow, Haitin
Bad mon, talkin' 'bout the money, jump from the f*ckin' foul line
All these haters only watchin' from the sideline (hey)
Crib out in Calabasas, crib out in Alpine (hey)
Chopper style, chopper style (hot boy)
Hot boy, hundred in the chop boy, hundred in the box boy (ha)
Hot boy, hundred niggas from the block boy
Kept it hunnid, now we on Top 40, hot boy

Came form the bottom like loose change, han
Drop it high, drop it low for that loose change, han
Got my main, got my old, got my new ting, han
I ain't mad at you baby, do the groove thing, han

Lifestyle, Sniper Gang lifestyle

She like my style, I just might take it all
Lifestyle, gold mouth, dawg, iced out
Lifestyle, check my lifestyle

We, you just wanna f*ck me 'cause I'm ill
Glee, I just wanna see what you gon' be (skrrt)
I ain't know, you heard all about me on my Ze
I'm so dangerous, how the hell they let me on TV
How they let you in the club with all that ass? That's illegal
How the hell they let me in the club with my heater?
Lifestyle that I'm living got me iced out in the building
I'm from crosstown, we be killin'
Pop it right now if you with me

Came form the bottom like loose change, han
Drop it high, drop it low for that loose change, han
Got my main, got my old, got my new ting, han
I ain't mad at you baby, do the groove thing, han

Lifestyle, Sniper Gang lifestyle

She like my style, I just might take it all
Lifestyle, gold mouth, dawg, iced out
Lifestyle, check my lifestyle

All that ass? That's illegal
All that ass? That's illegal
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Dieuson Octave, Karim Kharbouch, Kevin Gilyard, Ronald LaTour
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC




Salam Alaykum

No man's and island when he's had this conversation
No man's a forest even if he tries to be one
I've seen your insides, they're colorful
But you're not an island even if you try to be one with me
If I had a problem, then so did you
It slows to the ocean and solitude
Oh, I swear
Colorful
Need a steady hand
Intentions clouded

Ayy, break bread with my people (break bread with my people)
Pop two, got three (pop two, got three)
French Molly (hah)
Green Card from that visa (Green Card from visa)
Get caught and she leave (get caught and she leave)
By example, I lead (by example, I lead)
Young legend when I leave (young legend when I leave)
Uh-uh-uh, ha (ayy)
Wallahi (wallahi)
Shake, shake 'em up, shake (shake 'em up, shake)
As-salamu alaykum (as-salamu alaykum)
That pressure don't break (pressure don't break)
That don't matter what you do (that don't matter what you do)
Now they still gon' hate you

They say when you die, come back a year later
Creep in your bed, watch your main love creep
Money root of evil
Tunnel vision on the mountain like a eagle
Fresh off a crate, sharp like a forty-five needle
Fresh off the corner with a .45, servin' dope fiends that need 'em
Truth like Beanie Siegel first album (album)
Yeah, sit Moroccan couches
Fountain of youth crib like Mott Haven Housing
Beat it up, eat the wrong browser
Had to climb mountains, then build out
Used to bounce pass
Now it's funny how the ball bounce
All the real vouch
Bulldog come skatin'
Took my bail and my laces
Gave me a voucher
Now top of LIV couch
Coke Boys got 'em in the drop
Wallahi, ayy

A picture frame wouldn't hold me up
Need a steady hand
Intentions clouded on you

Ayy, all that talent can't buy no heart
Can be loyal by a fault
Never let my dogs
Do somethin' I wouldn't do, on my dog
We the truth by far
Young GOAT, way 'fore Earl Manigault in that park
Now it's prime only 'fore you hit that heart
I built a penthouse in them trucks
Made the bread, ran through it
Told my lady couldn't do it
I mean Adam and Eve couldn't do it
Ayy, don't compare me to these young ones
I make M&Ms and I'm on one
Montega, DeMarco, Don Juan
Wallahi

Ayy, break bread with my people (break bread with my people)
5'2" got three (5'2" got three)
French Maldives (uh-huh, ha)
Green Card from that visa (Green Card from visa)
Get caught and she leave (get caught and she leave)
By example, I lead (by example, I lead)
Young legend when I leave
Uh-uh-uh, ha
Wallahi (wallahi)
Shake, shake 'em up, shake (shake 'em up, shake)
As-salamu alaykum (as-salamu alaykum)
That pressure don't break (pressure don't break)
That don't matter what you do (that don't matter what you do)
Now they still gon' hate you

French Montana, they ain't gonna like you
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Baruch Nembard, Jian Liew, Karim Kharbouch, Rory Quigley
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




That Way

Lucy, I remember Lucy (oh)
Lucy, I remember Lucy (yeah)
Lucy, I remember Lucy

Montana, back on that ass
Coke Wave, back on that ass
Wavy crock, back on that ass (aw yeah)
Back on that ass (Montana)
Lucy, huh

Ayy, watch how I flip it, bag it
Switched it up, the rappin'
Queens, Harlem, Brooklyn, Manhattan
Bronx never capped it, put it on the map
And the city on my back, took my flow, jacked it
All my team want it, I'm Leonard, Raptors
Michael Jackson, Tyson, jabbed him
Millie, you actin' walk with a hundred
She Kodak, flashin', diamonds, I'm laughing
Bought diamonds in the jeweler, all my dogs knew her
Drip, drip, Lucy, Biggie, juicy
You talkin' to me Jack? You hatin', you know me
You nosebleed, I'm floor seats

Back on that ass
Montana, back on that ass
Coke Wave, back on that ass
Wavy crock, back on that ass
Coke Boys, back on that ass
That way, wave, and you know me (dat way)
Drip, drop, yeah, and you know me (dat way)
She's a Lucy, yeah, and you know it (dat way)
Bit loosie, yeah, and you know it (dat way)

Skate, keep O.J
Triple fat goose or the three-quarter North Face?
Thought I was a ball player (ball player)
Lucy, jumped in the two-seat
Slim like Karreuche, press gas, take off
Bad and boujee, a pillow full of makeup
I'm the Undertaker, I black out, drinkin'
Addies, wear off, what the f*ck I'm thinkin'?
Before I get to the crib, my shawty start tweakin'
Right by the fire, Frank, throw the mink in
Came with the Lynch Mob, Coke Wave squad
Aim for the moon, got the Wraith with the stars

Yeah, back on that ass
Coke Wave, back on that ass
Wavy crock, back on that ass
Coke Boys, back on that ass
That way, wave, and you know me (dat way)
Drip, drop, yeah, and you know me (dat way)
She's a Lucy, yeah, and you know it (dat way)
Bit loosie, yeah, and you know it (dat way)

Lucy, I remember Lucy
Lucy, I remember Lucy
Lucy, I remember Lucy
Lucy, I remember Lucy
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Karim Kharbouch, Paul Couture, Stephen Cropper, Donald Dunn, Al Jackson, Booker T Jones Jr., Edward Archer, Hoard Thompson, James Brown, Willie Hines, Andre Weston
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Hipgnosis Songs Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Say Goodbye

Coke Boy baby

What that mean?
It's, uh, le temps de Paris
Is that good?
L'espace, maybe
Frenchy, pourquoi tu y es allé?
Where you going?
(La musica de Harry Fraud)

Getting drunk, I'm telling sober truths, overproof
Say goodbye, say goodbye
Lately I've been on that '42, shorty too
Just say your goodbye, baby
Getting drunk, I'm telling sober truths, overproof
Say goodbye, say goodbye
Lately I've been on that '42, shorty too
Just say your goodbye, baby

Ayy, glimpse in the matrix
Needle in a haystack, with fire and my fragrance
Started from the pavement
No elevator, took the steps from the basement
Ayy, go crazy being patient
He started serving patients, you become a patient
Ayy, mama say your graces
Richard Millie cases, caught me doing cases
Click clack boom, that's survival
Spend a day with us, write a novel
Talk ice drift, baby get your goggles
Drink it up, drink it up, out the bottle
She might get pregnant if she swallows
To the hip, fashion week but ain't a model
Ayy, gridnin' like my first year
Lookin' stole, lookin' closer than church here
Come jump in this ride
Might make you just hop out the car, get your bible
My heart jumpin' like the judge when he about to give my dog a seven five and hit the hammer
Man I couldn't budge, dropped a tear when I turned around, looked at his mama
'Cause fake friends disappear, like the time when the Rollie on your hands, ayy
Mama say a prayer for us, hope you hear our blessings, even though we drinking Henny
Ayy, slangin' dope still
Smoke about a whole field
Bitches give me no chill
I supply the whole meal
I just hope he don't tell
'Cause murder give me no chill
Father God, our father
Father God, our father
Elijah the 13th, drinking on Louis XIII, its PG-13
Ayy, Al Pacino his first screen
Young Morocco, he was 13

Getting drunk, I'm telling sober truths, overproof
Say goodbye, say goodbye
Lately I've been on that '42, shorty too
Just say your goodbye
Getting drunk, I'm telling sober truths, overproof
Say goodbye, say goodbye
Lately I've been on that '42, shorty too
Just say your goodbye
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ahmad Balshe, Jamal Bowie, Karim Kharbouch, Rory Quigley, Seyi Agebti
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Coke Wave Boys

Pull up with a ting, yeah, diamond rings out
Bitches all over (ow)
Shawty on her thang, I'm on it, yeah
I need a chauffer
(La música de Harry Fraud)
Pull up in that V (yeah)
She like Cherie when I leave
You say we ride on these bitch niggas real quick (yeah)
Let's get 'em

Now, every time I creep through the block, rooftop missin', coupe bipolar
Th-th-throw the top to the bottom, then the bottom to the top, all over
Lookin' for a freak, legs up, sloppy, baby, come over
Th-th-throw the top to the back, then the back to the top, all over (ayy)
Goddamn, I'm

Show me where the money (show me), bet I go and get it
Everybody want the fame, but they don't wanna pay the ticket
Shawty said she wanna roller (roller), nigga with some Timbs on (oh)
Move a lil' rock like the old Tim Dunc' (yeah)
She love me long, then she wipe me off clean
I'm at the dealer cashin' out, then I'm spinnin' off mean
F*ck them niggas talkin' 'bout? They won't get it off Chinx
Keep the burners near the toilet (what?)
Work under the sink
In the front, got them haters in the rear now
Closest niggas to me gone, I ain't let a tear down
Hate we in the game, we done f*cked up their career now
They now how I'm on it, get it how I want it

Now, every time I creep through the block, rooftop missin', coupe bipolar
Th-th-throw the top to the bottom, then the bottom to the top, all over
Lookin' for a freak, legs up, sloppy, baby, come over
Th-th-throw the top to the back, then the back to the top, all over
Goddamn, I'm (Coke boy, baby)

Mama prayin' in the room
I'm in the next room bangin' work, washin' knuckles
I need my shoes Christian
And my watch from Geneva and I got shooters from Chicago
I'm drippin', get your goggles
In the jungle with the robbers, if you walk off then you hit the lotto, yeah
If you need that work, tato
Hit up Broadway, call up Gato
We in them jets, two hours to Cabo
No ID, shooters no IG
I'm on front line, money on my mind
Money truck, beep, beep, beep, flatline

Baby's up front, you see them Coke Wave Boys
In them foreign cars, outlaws, yeah, yeah
Baby's up front, you see them Coke Wave Boys
In them foreign cars, Wave Gods, ayy, ayy

Yeah, they tried to throw the book at a nigga
Baby mama, she won't even look at a nigga
Waste of talent, uh, never that
Any time he ace in the deuce, nigga bet it back
Every time on my way to school, baby shared a ride
Had to watch for the pig, undercovers' will set a trap
Max, you're not like them, nigga, you're different
Way with the dick, baby say I'm eccentric
Never mention my name in a sentence
Niggas be chicks these days, they need attention
Four door Lambo needs suspension
Too many potholes out there in Brooklyn
Too many loops from Harry Fraud, hood shit
Paid for à la, Bobby Flay, good shit
This wasn't even supposed to happen, we pushed it
Sautéin' a nigga brain, cooked it

Now, every time I creep through the block, rooftop missin', coupe bipolar
Th-th-throw the top to the bottom, then the bottom to the top, all over
Lookin' for a freak, legs up, sloppy, baby, come over
Th-th-throw the top to the back, then the back to the top, all over
Goddamn, I'm

(Montana caught a lick)
Goddamn, I'm
(My wrist water whip)
Goddamn, I'm
(Main bitch on my hip)
Goddamn, I'm
Goddamn, I'm
I know, I know, I know, I know
I know, I know, I know, I know
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ahmir Thompson, Charly Wingate, Jimmy Gray, Karim Kharbouch, Leonard Hubbard, Lionel Pickens, Raphael Saadiq, Rory Quigley, Tarik Collins
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Downtown Music Publishing, PFIVE Entertainment Mexico, Cloud9




Writing on the Wall

[French Montana, Post Malone & Cardi B]
Montana
Posty (Hahaha)
Okurr
(La-la-la-la, uuh)
Ayy, uh huh

[French Montana]
From the block, now we're snipin' on the opps like Somalians (Uh-huh)
Egyptian cloth on my body, diamonds like 6ix9ine hair (Hair)
Now we comin' through the back, we don't go to the concierge (Yeah, hey-hey)
Now that boy run fashion, Cardi in that Fashion Nova gear (Ha)
We started the wave, now everybody lookin' the same
Tell me how you want it (Woah)
Shorty buss it down, give us the money, keep the crown
Tell me how you want it
I been around the globe in the Global Express
Ten O's in my net worth, yeah (Huh)
Neck work, then the leg work (Work)
We're the stars like the network (Work, Montana)

[Post Malone]
You see the writing on the wall
Hold onto me and I'ma hold ya
You see the writing on the wall
I'll bring it back, bring it back, yeah

[Post Malone]
Got a lil' mama in my telephone, she jumpin' all up on me yo (Ayy)
Hoes all in my section, I don't want 'em, kick them bitches out like vamanos (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
We can work it out, lil' mama, all we need is just a little cardio (Ayy)
Yeah, she the type of woman if we cannot do it, I will catch a body for (Ooh yeah, yeah)
Call my accountant, bought my bitch new Beamer, she whip 7-Series, yeah (Ooh yeah, yeah)
I spend whatever, girl, I do whatever to show you I'm serious (Ooh yeah, yeah)
That sound familiar, they just talkin' shit because they feel inferior
Ooh yeah, that's just how we go

[Post Malone]
You see the writing on the wall
Hold onto me and I'ma hold ya
You see the writing on the wall
I'll bring it back, bring it back, yeah

[Cardi B & French Montana]
All the millions make 'em horny, Montana
Cardi, we the hottest out the South Bronx, yeah
Made me holla' for a dollar, got my makeup on your collar
You'll be callin' me tomorrow, yeah
And my diamonds like water, you'll be callin' me tomorrow
Then them dress gettin' shorter (Uh huh)
Make you push a little harder, little faster, little deeper (Skrr skrr)
'Fore I promise I be keepin' ya
Said, "It's all about the level up", booty like a Jell-O Cup
Bitches hella jealous, wishin' it was them instead of us
I done got hot, dawg, realize she ain't catchin' up
Gucci, Fendi, Prada, Balenciaga, I got Margiela, ah
Standin' ovation, the broad of the nation
Me and babe racin' Wraiths, we're adjacent
Wish that we could take the rumors to the bank (To the bank)
We don't have no more room inside the safe (Woo, woo)
But I'ma ball it like a napkin, tap it like it's Jazz-feet
Hold the door for me, then pop me on the ass cheek
Ain't too rich to get it poppin' in the backseat
Next time you want another bitch, you better ask me, ah
Ike and Tina that ass, you better take a bitch you know
Show my name and this pass
And now we're rollin' down the freeway, talkin' 'bout a threeway
Startin' workin' out, but he gon' eat me on his cheat-day off

[Post Malone & Cardi B]
You see the writing on the wall
Hold onto me and I'ma hold ya
You see the writing on the wall
I'll bring it back, bring it back, yeah

[Post Malone & Cardi B]
La-la-la, la-la-la
La-la-la (Okurr), ohh
La-la-la (What you want?), la-la-la
La-la-la, ohh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Karik Kharbouch, Austin Post, Belcalis Almanzar, Tarik Johnston
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Out Of Your Mind

(Mally Mall)

Out of your mind (mind, mind, mind, mind)
I was with you that time (time, time, time, time)
F*ckin' with me, you're out of your mind (mind, mind, mind, mind)
I was with you that time (time, time, time, time, ooh-ooh)
True, out of your mind (out of your mind)

I was with you that time
You're f*cking with me, out of your mind (out of your mind)
Watching your body like a yardie
Turnin' to the next, that's word to Charlie

We is who they say we are
Champagne, caviar
Big tool like a Navy yard
Hop-hop up the coupe of mine
Super mind, shooters in a suit and tie
Stay here in Dubai, they was watchin' God
Hold up, hold up, she look to snatch a bod'
Kurt Cobain, out of your mind
Said, "Montana, you out of your mind"

Out of your mind (mind, mind, mind, mind)
I was with you that time (time, time, time, time)
F*ckin' with me, you're out of your mind (mind, mind, mind, mind)
I was with you that time (time, time, time, time, ooh-ooh)
True, out of your mind (out of your mind)

I was with you that time
You're f*cking with me, out of your mind (out of your mind)
Watching your body like a yardie
Turnin' to the next, that's word to Charlie

She pull on my pants and she said, "Let's go"
She holdin' my hand goin' to the dance floor
She wine up, she wine up, she wine up
Good thing I didn't peace sign up
Bad boy, not with all the back and forth
The only back and forth is fast and slow
She sign up, she sign up, she sign up, she signed up for it
She doin' somethin' to control the vibe
She give you lovin' and it multiplies
She got that fatty and it's supersized
I gotta have it, yeah, this me, all mine (right now
Run to me, come to ladi-dadi
Don't tell nobody, it's a private party
Experiencing an out of body
Really crazy, you're out of body (out of your mind)

Out of your mind (mind, mind, mind, mind)
I was with you that time (time, time, time, time)
F*ckin' with me, you're out of your mind (mind, mind, mind, mind)
I was with you that time (time, time, time, time, ooh-ooh)
True, out of your mind (out of your mind)

I was with you that time
You're f*cking with me, out of your mind (out of your mind)
Watching your body like a yardie
Turnin' to the next, that's word to Charlie
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Chris Brown, Jamal Bowie, Karim Kharbouch, Khalif Brown, Seyi Agebti
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Wanna Be

(We got London on da Track)

I wanna know if you can keep up
I wanna drink out of the same cup with you
You know me, never had a bad vibe
No bad vibes with you
Never let a good time pass us by, ah
You know I really know you, girl why you actin' shy?
Don't I always show up girl? Yeah, yeah (skrr)
Don't I always pour up girl? Yeah, yeah (skrr)
You see it's more than physical
You always take me literally, yeah

That's why I ask you (I ask you)
To be here right with me
That's why I ask you (right here)
This is where you wanna be
Feel so good don't wanna leave
And I don't wanna have no fun unless you're with me, yeah (haan)
And I don't wanna have to story-tell to make believe, yeah (ayy, ayy, ayy)
Ooh, ooh, ooh

Skatin' on the beat
Montana
Yes, believe it, cross the region
Dreamin' in a precinct, woke up in a cell I was heated
Now we drinkin' Fiji and Fiji
From the court house to the car seats
Torpedoes, clique full of hunnid Carlitos
Mobsters, never with crabs, eatin' lobster
Millionaires, diamonds like J Balvin hair
Coupe two door, ball like Joe Dumars
I'm the one, take two
Booth with a spacesuit
Knock 'em out the park, Babe Ruth
I would hate too
Shinin' like a '96 MA$E suit
Niggas want it like grapefruit, stacks on the eggs
Cracks all flavors
Started independent, now have to sign a major
My wrist Cartier (hey), want 40 years (hey)
My homie came home fresh off 40 years (hey)

And that's why (Montana)
And that's why
That's why, that's why (that's why, that's why)
This is where you wanna be
Feel so good don't wanna leave
And I don't wanna have no fun unless you're with me
And I don't wanna have to story-tell to make believe
Ooh, ooh, ooh (Montana)

To turn up with me, that's why I ask you
To be right here with me, that's why I ask you
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jahron Brathwaite, Karim Kharbouch, London Tyler Holmes
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Twisted

Hah, Mafia (hey)
Twisted off the juice, twisted, twisted off the juice (hah)
Twisted off the juice, twisted, twisted off the juice (hah)

Dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Dance, dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole)
Dance, dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole)
Dance, dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Dance, dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Twisted off the juice, twisted, twisted off the juice
Twisted off the juice, twisted, twisted off the juice
Come get twisted with the Juice, I'm your nigga
F*ck with Montana, bitch, that's my nigga

One AM, she was callin' me papi (hah)
Two AM, we meet up at the lobby (hah)
Three AM, yeah, I was gettin' sloppy (hah)
At four AM, I passed her to Rocky (hah)
This the same bitch, on that same shit (hah)
Ain't got no talent, she's just known for suckin' famous dicks (hah)
Niggas ballin' out, buyin' all kinda gifts
Shawty's pussy must be dope, 'cause niggas can't quit
For that fame they bussin, nothin' strange to us (hah)
Bitches tweakin' like they on angel dust
When I park that Lec', and slide through the back
Bitches hoppin' off the pole like, "Where the paper at?"
F*ck with Montana, 'cause I'm your nigga
Black Rollie Barack, Ciroc in my liver
Who the f*ck is this?
Pull up in a 'Gatti with a three quarter mink
Shawty ridin' shotty with a rock like a brick hit
Yeah yeah, that's that drip
I got brown bags, loads, tic-tac-toe, X's, O's
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (hah)
Three hundred on a coupe, three hundred for the show (hah)
Doors open up, legs open wide
Grind 'til the night over, I ain't come up overnight (hah)
Twisted off the juice, top of the roof (hah)

Twisted off the juice, twisted, twisted off the juice
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (how you like?)
Dance, dance like you dancin' on a pole (how you like?)
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (how you like?)
Dance, dance like you dancin' on a pole (how you like?)
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (you like that? I love that)
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (you like that? I love that)
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (how you like?)
Dance, dance like you dancin' on a pole (how you like that?)
Twisted off the juice, twisted, twisted off the juice
Twisted off the juice, twisted, twisted off the juice
Come get twisted with the Juice, I'm your nigga
F*ck with Montana, bitch, that's my nigga

She said she ain't never done no shit like this before
I said, "I know you ain't a ho, but girl just let it go"
I'm finna' flow, I'm finna' catch a flow, like woah
Get your ass up on the pole, let your worries go
She said, "I know I ain't a ho
I'm just tryna get this money, you know how it go" forsho'
Bust a nut and then I roll
Bitches call me Bobby Tarantino
We know I'ma get the C-note, then I relocate
F*ck her then I bounce, hell nah, I can't do no date
1-800, then I kill the pussy, who can relate?
Got a bitch in all states, like the fake Denzel
Word to Yeezy, my shit's breezy, it's too easy
This money please me, these fake rappers don't appease me
If you ain't talkin' money, you need to talk to French
That's word to Karim, we live in the dream, nah I mean?
Whip clean, peanut butter on the inside
Bitches be beautiful, but they ugly on the inside, woo
Shut your f*ckin' mouth, 'cause Bobby Boy he comin' through
Word to Triple-6, suck on up my dick
Slob on my knob, girl you're beautiful, that's word to God
Goddamn, I'm the man, do it 'cause I can

Dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Dance, dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole)
Dance, dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole)
Dance, dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Dance, dance like you dancin' on a pole (on a pole, hah)
Twisted off the juice, twisted, twisted off the juice (juice)
Twisted off the juice, twisted, twisted off the juice (juice)
Come get twisted with the juice, I'm your nigga
F*ck with Montana, bitch, that's my nigga

Coke Boy baby
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: D. Pannell, Darnell Carlton, Jordan Michael Houston, Karim Karbouch, Paul Beauregard, Rakim Mayers, Robert Bryson Hall II
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




No Stylist

Ooh
Yeah, louder
Hey, hey
I'm in London, got my beat from London

Iced out (stylist), no stylist (stylist)
New Chanel, Saint Laurent, Gucci bag (huh, haan)
Lifestyle (stylist), no stylist (stylist)
Louboutin, Jimmy Choo, that's on you (haan)
Diamonds on my neck, frozen tears (tears)
Hoppin' out the jet, Lears (Lear)
Bad bitches gettin' wet, here
Yes, don't call me 'til the checks clear (clear)

(Louder)
F*ck they talkin' 'bout? Fast talk, runnin' laps
Now I'm not playin' that shit
French Vanilla, sippin' on, Lear jets pickin' up
Hong Kong, Morocco, I'm here
No stylist
And I ain't playin' with these bitches, they childish (ha)
Yeah, look around, they quiet
She said I ain't got no heart, bitch, find it

Iced out (stylist), no stylist (stylist)
New Chanel, Saint Laurent, Gucci bag (huh, louder)
Lifestyle (stylist), no stylist (stylist)
Louboutin, Jimmy Choo, that's on you (haan)
Diamonds on my neck, frozen tears (tears)
Hoppin' out the jet, Lears (Lear)
Bad bitches gettin' wet, here
Yes, don't call me 'til the checks clear (clear)

(Louder)
I got the game in a squeeze
Who disagree? I wanna see one of y'all run up a B
Yeah, two open seats, we flyin' at 7 and packed for the beach
Yeah, keepin' it G, I told her, "Don't wear no 350s 'round me"
Iced out, no stylist
No Chanel, Nike track, doin' road with some waps
And that's Capo in the back, and that's swole in the back
Don't need Gucci on my back, TV Gucci got my back
Don't know where y'all niggas at, I've been here, I've been back
In Delilah, word to Zack, I need action, that's a fact

Iced out (stylist), no stylist (stylist)
New Chanel, Saint Laurent, Gucci bag (huh, haan)
Lifestyle, no stylist
Louboutin, Jimmy Choo, that's on you (haan)
Diamonds on my neck, frozen tears (tears)
Hoppin' out the jet, Lears (Lear)
Bad bitches gettin' wet, here
Yeah, don't call me 'til the checks clear (clear)
Iced out, no stylist (stylist)
New Chanel, Saint Laurent, Gucci bag (huh, haan)
Lifestyle, no stylist (stylist)
Louboutin, Jimmy Choo, that's on you (haan)

No stylist
No stylist
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Karim Kharbouch, Aubrey Drake Graham, Christopher Dotson, Christian Ward
Copyright: Lyrics © NORRIS INTERNATIONAL AGENCY, BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Wiggle It

Ay, you know what it is when you hear that
Montana, haah

I'ma bounce this ass for a rich ass nigga
I'ma get a bag, ol' gold ass digger
You can't f*ck with me if you ain't got that cash
You wanna see some ass?

I'll wiggle it, wiggle it, wiggle it
You gotta spend that shit, spend that shit, spend that shit
I'll wiggle it, wiggle it, wiggle it
You gotta spend that shit, spend that shit, spend that shit (ay)
Brown bag legend for these bad ass bitches
Got a hundred racks if you gon' backflip it
I ain't trippin', I got that cash
Baby, go and bounce that ass
I'll wiggle it, wiggle it, wiggle it
You gotta spend that shit, spend that shit, spend that shit
I'll wiggle it, wiggle it, wiggle it
You gotta spend that shit, spend that shit, spend that shit

Coke Boy, put you on the broke diet
Ass fat, you can hide from the Feds behind it
Brown bag, take her bottom and the top down her
Bad bitch lookin' for a rich ass nigga
I'ma pull up to the club with that big bag, nigga
We ain't really with that chitchat, nigga
I'ma break her off like a Kit Kat, nigga
Sauce on the pimp, I'm a Big Mac, nigga, haah

I'ma bounce this ass for a rich ass nigga
I'ma get a bag, ol' gold ass digger
You can't f*ck with me if you ain't got that cash
You wanna see some ass?

I'll wiggle it, wiggle it, wiggle it
You gotta spend that shit, spend that shit, spend that shit
I'll wiggle it, wiggle it, wiggle it
You gotta spend that shit, spend that shit, spend that shit (ay)
Brown bag legend for these bad ass bitches
Got a hundred racks if you gon' backflip it
I ain't trippin', I got that cash
Baby, go and bounce that ass
I'll wiggle it, wiggle it, wiggle it
You gotta spend that shit, spend that shit, spend that shit
I'll wiggle it, wiggle it, wiggle it
You gotta spend that shit, spend that shit, spend that shit

Okay, nigga, you wanna wife a bitch?
I'ma tell you what I really like and shit
Whole lot of diamonds, ice and shit
Big ass dick that can pipe a bitch
And you know that I like it when you spend a little cash
Every time I come around, you put designer in my bag
White boys say I'm really rad
Even if I'm on my period, I'ma still let 'em bag
Freak bitch, pussy so wet, I got 'em seasick
I'm a meat lover, yeah, deep dish
You a married nigga, then peep this
I can keep a secret

I'ma bounce this ass for a rich ass nigga
I'ma get a bag, ol' gold ass digger
You can't f*ck with me if you ain't got that cash
You wanna see some ass?

I'll wiggle it, wiggle it, wiggle it
You gotta spend that shit, spend that shit, spend that shit
I'll wiggle it, wiggle it, wiggle it
You gotta spend that shit, spend that shit, spend that shit (ay)
Brown bag legend for these bad ass bitches
Got a hundred racks if you gon' backflip it
I ain't trippin', I got that cash
Baby, go and bounce that ass

(Spend that cash, spend that cash)
(Spend that cash, spend that cash)
(Spend that shit, spend that shit)
(Spend that shit, spend that shit)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Graham Wilson, Hugh Brankin, John Reid, Karim Kharbouch, Ross Campbell
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Slide ft.

Blueface, baby
You know what it is, we here (yeah, a'ight, haan?)
Montana (bitch, I'm slidin', bitch, I'm slidin')

Won't you bust it for a real nigga? (Bust it for a real nigga?)
Slim thick lil' butt, but it feel bigger (butt, but it feel bigger)
I know you just a lil' problem, I can deal with ya (tell 'em I can deal with ya)
I know you just a lil' problem, I can deal with ya (oh)

All night gettin' shmizzed, all night gettin' high (gettin' high)
Hell to the yeah to the mothaf*ckin' Y (the mothaf*ckin' Y)
Bitch slide (bitch, slide)
Slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Creepin' 'round corners and then dippin' through the grass (yeah)
Right back on your mothaf*ckin' ass
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide), yeah

Mama, don't be scared, you can let me inside (slide)
Eight rounds in me, we could do it all night (slide)
And I ain't tryna fight, see my future lookin' bright (slide)
If you ready for the pipe, I could give you what you like (yeah)
Bitch slide (slide)
Bow down to the Coke Boys
F*ck me? F*ck you, lil ho (How?)
Had respect for yo' ass
Now it's time for Montana to check yo' ass, fool (Nigga)
Get the money, told T, get the butter (butter)
Had to tell the ho bitch I don't love her

Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (slide)
Bitch, slide (slide)
Now bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)

F*ck 'em over, niggas, don't you pay 'em no mind
We can make a movie, I ain't wastin' no time
Baby, we can f*ck again, do it all night (slide)
Baby, I been hustlin, cookin' all night (bitch, slide)
Future so bright, look at my life
Like f*ck it, bitch, slide
Bitch, slide, bitch, slide

Saw some mark-ass niggas on the corner flaggin' me
Like, "What's up with you? Sup with Max B?
What's up with this Coke wave? What's up with the crew?
Is that nigga still in jail? What the nigga do?"
I said, "If you ain't up on things
Coke Boys still the gang, Coke wave in my veins"
Nigga, slide (Nigga, slide)
Nigga, slide (Nigga, slide)
Nigga, slide (Nigga, slide)
Bitch nigga, slide (Hah)

Won't you bust it for a real nigga? (Bust it for a real nigga?)
Slim thick lil' butt, but it feel bigger (butt, but it feel bigger)
I know you just a lil' problem, I can deal with ya (tell 'em I can deal with ya)
I know you just a lil' problem, I can deal with ya (oh)

All night gettin' shmizzed, all night gettin' high (gettin' high)
Hell to the yeah to the mothaf*ckin' Y (the mothaf*ckin' Y)
Bitch slide (bitch, slide)
Slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Creepin' 'round corners and then dippin' through the grass (yeah)
Right back on your mothaf*ckin' ass
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide), yeah

Blueface, baby (slidin')
Yeah, a'ight (slidin')
Bust it open for a real nigga (bust it)
Tommy gun on me like a Hilfiger (bust it)
Slidin' and glidin', this ain't no Plain Jane
VVS' bustin' (bustin')
Like Jerome Bettis (like Jerome Bettis)
I get to the fetty (fetty)
I got a f*ckin' fetish
Two dicks on me, a cock and a big Glock (Two dicks)
Reach for my piece like openin' your eyes in Bird Box (Ooh)
Gunshots (Gunshots)
Start a track meet
.40 clack like some sandals when it's slide feet

Won't you bust it for a real nigga? (Bust it for a real nigga?)
Slim thick lil' butt, but it feel bigger (butt, but it feel bigger)
I know you just a lil' problem, I can deal with ya (tell 'em I can deal with ya)
I know you just a lil' problem, I can deal with ya (oh)

All night gettin' shmizzed, all night gettin' high (gettin' high)
Hell to the yeah to the mothaf*ckin' Y (the mothaf*ckin' Y)
Bitch slide (bitch, slide)
Slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
Bitch, slide (bitch, slide)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ashton Bryce Vines, Baruch Nembhard, Jonathan Porter, Karim Kharbouch, Tione Merritt
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Saucy

Yeah, think about me, baby, ow
Think about me, baby, ow
Montana, wanna see me fall
(La música de Harry Fraud)
This gon' rock the fall with 'em
You wanna see me fall
Like the seasons, both fall in fall
Like the trees, it's gon' fall with 'em, oh

Don't know what it cost
That's why I'm saucy, yeah
Suit on like I'm Rothstein, yeah
I'm so saucy
Montana so saucy, yeah

One life, live it up, hate strong, fillin' up
Engine sound like a twelve cylinder
Net worth, top demand, sneeze, I drop a band
Stunt like Muslim, I don't eat, I cop the Lam'
When I get hot head and cold feet
I got heat 'em up
Facilitate, disintegrate through the
Harry Truman in that presidential suite
Or Keanu Reeves in that white 'Rari speedin' (skrrt)
You know I'm comin' when you hear the trunk
Chain clickin' and it got choppers if you duck the punches (punches)
I don't do the brunches
Or yoga with Russell, I do
Batch house with crunches
I'm in the back, black with duffels
Ice chilly, blind your left eye (eye), milli' up
Heart full of fire, gasoline
Drugs through that hail storm
You don't skate like ice on herringbone
Stony, I practice it, West Indian OV (woo)

Tryna change my ways
Tryna play my play
Think about me, baby
Change my ways
Tryna play my play (yeah)
Think about me, baby (ayy)

Food for thought, cleaned the dishes, breakfast, lunch and dinner
Moved with the yay', Kris Jenner
South Bronx, Bronx boogie, Dirk Diggler, Boogie Nights
Money orders for my dawgs in the feds doin' life
Table full of white
Now it's commas for my vocal point
Yachts by the shoreline, foreigns like the borderline
Your bitch down low, that's an app
You could burn bridges or bridge the gap
I'm playin' Chinese chess
Ninety-nine mil' just to even the odds
Built with the gods
Never gossip, young Picasso
We the lynch mob with the night vision goggles (woo)
My alliance feed the lions
Brainwash 'em 'til it's free to buy it
Conclusion, your reality become illusion
Ayy, I see you gaspin', feel that media
'Til you gaspin' for air, your friends leavin' ya
You ain't remotely close, but they control you
Montana, I been pimpin' like I'm Goldie
Chain gang, free my brother chain
Me and Max go back like rubber slang
Tense on you, flame, broil, it blow your mind
Tried to blind me but I still see through my loyal eye

Yeah, think about me, baby
Yeah, ow
Wanna see me fall
Like the seasons, both fall

Don't know what it cost
That's why I'm saucy, yeah
Suit on like I'm Rothstein, yeah
I'm so saucy
Montana so saucy, yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Karim Kharbouch, Myles Martin, Rory Quigley
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




No Shopping

[French Montana:]
Sippin' on the drank, sippin' on the drank
Sippin' on the drank, sippin' on the drank
All about the mula, all about the mula
Word to the bird, I ain't never take her fur shoppin'

Runnin' through them keys way before Khaled
Runnin' with the pushas way before Malice
Word to the five, I'm the one like four minus
Caught her off the rebound, Ben Wallace, gave her four dollars
Sippin' on the drank, sippin' on the drank
Sippin' on the drank, I ain't tryna think
When it get hot, bodies start droppin'
Hit the strip club, told them hoes gon' get the moppin'
Word to Diddy, we Cirocin'
Word to Biggie, we'll be Pac-in'
I just bought Selena's crib, I'm poppin'
I just told Drizzy, "Let me take Serena to the tropics"
Sippin' on the drank, sippin' on the drank
Sippin' on the drank, I ain't tryna think
Sittin' high, 6 God cover
Tell them hoes get low, 6 God comin'

Sippin' on the drank, sippin' on the drank
Sippin' on the drank, sippin' on the drank
All about the mula, all about the mula
Word to the bird, I ain't never take her fur shoppin'

[Drake:]
Pump, pump, pump it up
She got a good head on her, but I pump it up
I'm not a one hit wonder, they know all my stuff
You let me turn into the nigga that you almost was
I done seen a lot of shit and I done been in things
And I never started nothin', I just finish things
And I'm sell off like the man that brought me in this thing
How you out here celebratin' like the winnin' team?
No, calm down, calm down
Shit ain't how you think it is, take a look around
I'm supposed to be on a vacation right now
But I'm home wildin', word to DJ Khaled
Back with another one
I'm steady droppin' bombs on your head top
Been that way since I could make your bed rock
I'm on, blew it where you can't shop
Bitch I just rapped and it went pop
Next move better than my last move
Your next move can't erase your past moves
Took her out once she got attached to him
Ring, ring, click, I'll get back to 'em
You don't really want the views
You don't really want a snapshot of things goin' on with the crew
You don't wanna hear Not Nice did thirteen
And did another two for some other shit he didn't do
Last week, Budden runnin' in the room
This week sold one point two
Yeah, it's a Boucheron baby boy
Yeah, and I know Taraji like I'm baby boy
And I f*ck with Weezy and I'm Baby's boy
Yeah we the Army, better yet the Navy, boy

[French Montana & Drake:]
Sippin' on the drank, sippin' on the drank
Sippin' on the drank, I ain't tryna think
All about the mula, all about the mula
Word to the bird, I ain't never take a bird shoppin'
Sippin' on the drank, sippin' on the drank
Sippin' on the drank, I ain't tryna think
All about the mula, all about the mula
Word to the bird, I ain't never take her fur shoppin'

[French Montana:]
The birds want rings and tings, you know
But we'll never take the bird shoppin', you know
Still, you already done know
Big up, Six God
Haaaan, skrrt, skrrt!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Shane Lindstrom, Kevin Gomringer, Tom Gomringer, Aubrey Drake Graham, Karim Kharbouch
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Lockjaw

[Intro - French Montana:]
My nigga on the road
You never told me
Montana

[Hook - Kodak Black & French Montana:]
It be hard to watch the cash when the bands keep droppin'
Got the big 40 on me so my pants keep fallin'
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'
I ain't even tryna talk cause my jaw keep lockin'
She ain't tryna be a freak but them bands keep poppin'
Still caught up in the streets
And the feds still knockin'
It be hard to understand me my jaw keep lockin'
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'
Bite down, bite down
It'd be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'
Bite down, bite down
It'd be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'

[Verse 1 - Kodak Black & French Montana:]
I chew your lil' one up
I boot a nigga up
Got the snipers in the dually truck and we tooly'd up
I be tryin' change my life
But a monkey on my back
I've been rollin' all night
I got a monkey on my back
(skrrr, skrrr)
All about the mula
Throw a hundred chains on, tryna cool her
I know a nigga blessin,' pray to god
Soon as the flow hit my feed I'm getting high
I go in, lookin' crooked in the face
She keep lookin' in her drink
Probably think the liquor laced
Nah bitch, I'm 1K
And I'm gonna keep it one-hunda
Biting down, 'bout to rip my tongue off

[Hook - Kodak Black & French Montana:]
It be hard to watch the cash when the bands keep droppin'
Got the big 40 on me so my pants keep fallin'
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'
I ain't even tryna talk cause my jaw keep lockin'
She ain't tryna be a freak but them bands keep poppin'
Still caught up in the streets
And the feds still knockin'
It be hard to understand me my jaw keep lockin'
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'
Bite down, bite down
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'
Bite down, bite down
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'

[Verse 2 - Kodak Black & French Montana:]
Slide in the cutlass and you know I paint it candy
Then I pulled up in a bucket but I used to want to a Hemi
And I'm pouring up the round then I'm sippin on Remy
I ain't f*ckin with that white shit I'm throwed off Henny
Pull up to the back, black zac
Chief rockin'
And the feds keep lurkin'
Cause the boys keep talkin'
Rich god
Ran off on the plug about forty times
Forty nigga strapped, we the 49'ers
Bite down
Fun huh?
Got two twig bitches doing 69
Jump off to the mula and you know that
50 chains on
Diamonds flashing like Kodak
I remember toting .38, now I got a semi
Could have been had a baby K
But I wasn't ready
Shawty say she like my lyric pad
Thought I went to Cali
Nah baby I ain't want no Wap, I just want the Fetty

[Hook - Kodak Black & French Montana:]
It be hard to watch the cash when the bands keep droppin'
Got the big 40 on me so my pants keep fallin'
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'
I ain't even tryna talk cause my jaw keep lockin'
She ain't tryna be a freak but them bands keep poppin'
Still caught up in the streets
And the feds still knockin'
It be hard to understand me my jaw keep lockin'
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'
Bite down, bite down
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'
Bite down, bite down
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'

[Outro - Kodak Black & French Montana:]
Ay, ay ay, ay, ay ay ay, skrr, ay, ay ay ay, ay, ay ay
Bite down, bite down
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'
Bite down, bite down
It be hard to understand me cause my jaw keep lockin'
Ay, ay ay ay
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: BENJAMIN DIEHL, DIEUSON OCTAVE, KARIM KHARBOUCH, KHALED KHALED
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC





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