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French Montana - Montana Lyrics



French Montana - Montana Lyrics
Official




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 ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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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.





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