Coke Boyz

French Montana

Album Coke Boys 2


Closing up shop, and locking doors
Runnin up lost in someone’s room
Silence so lighty you go dim
Bombs are going off inside your chest
If it feels like the end


Coke boy, Montana, we up in here
What they talkin’ about?
I’m Coke Boy, Montana, we up in here
What they talkin’ about?
I’m Coke Boy, Montana, we in this bitch
What they talkin’ about?
I’m Coke Boy, Montana, we in this bitch
What they talkin’ about?


Bombs are giong off inside your chest
It feels like the end

Verse 1: French Montana

Custom made shoes but I dont trust a soul
They try and nail me to the cross but I’m across the globe
I’m talkin’ twenty M’s, or twenty in the pen
Winners never quit, quitters never win
Coming out the bottle, you don’t know the half
I’m famous now my signature call the autograph
From the most hated, to the most loved
See these red diamonds, nigga that’s cold blood
Hugs turn to waste, killers turn to dates
Niggas hate to love, haters love to hate
As-salâm ‘aleïkoum, Inch Allah
Please tell my story right (if I gotta die)

Verse 2: Chinx Drugz

See them diamonds flashin’ come and catch the photo
High off life but I’m sittin’ solo
Bitches fall out, real niggas fall in
Sharks in them waters dare you stick your toes in
Tryin’ find God cause they gave me Hell
Road paved in them hundreds, that’s a paper trail
Chin Chilla dime move but the coupe loakin’
Absorbed all this bullshit let the truth soak in
Self made never punched a clock
Before I hug a pig, I’mma hug the block
From the blocks where the young niggas hit they vein
To tourin’ out the country and now we switchin’ planes
They try and kill my mind and my body
Coke Boys, new illuminati

Verse 3: Meek Mill

When it comes to stuntin’ I’m like money man meech
Brought my city with me and we coming in the fleet
And now I’m gettin’ richer they don’t want me in these streets
I’m thinkin’ fuck an album sell, we sold a hundred bricks this week
Thousand grams of crack, take it to the table
Bag it all up, take it to the label
And tell em distrubute it Im gettin’ cake ridiculous
Right like a frog jumpin through the traffic ribbitin’
They tellin’ me to turn down, they said I need ritalin
Ballin’ like I’m Jordan or assists from Scottie Pippen’
In and out the flows, crossing over like I’m dribblin’
Runnin’ laps round the raps, I’m tire like Michelin
Started out with Tip and them, but that wasn’t it for him
Yellow gold cuban diamonds blue like Michigan



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