88 Coupes Lyrics/Paroles
French Montana

par bilal 1221 vues -

(French Montana) Hah! Cuz I don’t know what they talkin Niggas smoke now Lemar on it 88 coupes like a car lot I’ll be 88 stars on floor high You need the Phantom Rolls Flippin work, comin back like Derek Rose Don’t call me, I’mma call you Sicilly, bread, olive oil Stop that and nigga I don’t owe you And once you cross the line nigga I don’t know you Make about quarter mill a week Man that closet like Fashion Week Slingin drugs, dealers got the package It still makes a lot, 5 times a day Tryna send mama to Mecca While a nigga snortin pound with the liquor Man watch for the stake up, (prrrp) GOD golf club Don Juan de Marco, lot like car show Feel for ya, nobody will deal for ya Wanna tell you a story but guys won’t bear with you And nah, I ain’t tryna get bread wit you So go and tell yo bitches split beer wit you You come to concert, jaja with honor Turn some cake on, pills smoking marijuana Corner block coz yo boy owe us Young boy shooter like Jamal Coffey Bricks in the basement, givin niggas space Clips in the Matrix, sleep with the racers 5 stars tell em, I said she’s 16 Nah that’s R. Kelly, my niggas won’t revy Gifted and cursed, next step to be the worse Next coupe to be a hearse Man this shit hah! When they heard uh My niggas slinging large, for church though Man say aha was the first tour Now at age 5 on a surf board I be clean as a whistle Team is official Black and white diamonds, all I need is a whistle (Jadakiss) My weed is the issue Now may I proceed to kiss you? They put you where both of yall single men Home-made speaker outta the Pringle can Can’t wait to do your thing again When they mention your name the bells ring again Gettin that cake, it cause friction They love turn that hate to addiction Mind thinker but echo prescriptions Up in the presidential suite with a vixen A lot of suckers in the bizz Good die young, sucka niggas live Quickest way to go, fuckin with the kids He ain’t gon stop til you pluck him with the 6 Ghost 100 thou, fuckin with the niggas Flyin on a brukler, pocket full of bricks Last night club, fuck it, where the bitch Cuz money in the field but I fuck er with the 6 Word of advice, flood through the gauge Niggas know the hood run through my veins Real southern with great poise Pure bundles, a straight boy Smoke loud but hate noise Clean to ya, rafe boys RIP Daddy D and Nutty, 88 Troy (Outro) What? D block & Coke Boys Pushin Yea Uh Fuck wit me Harry Frauds and bad motherfuckers Yea Uh This shit is stupid