French Montana - 88 Coupes Lyrics

French Montana Lyrics

88 Coupes Lyrics
Cuz I don't know what they totin
You niggas smokin that Lamar Odom
88 coupes like a car lot
I be 88 stars off the floor hop
You need the Phantom Rolls
Flippin work, comin back like Derek Rose
Don't call me, I'mma call you
Sicily, bread, olive oil
Stop beggin 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
I still make Salat 5 times a day
Tryna send mama to Mecca
While a nigga snortin pound with the liquor
Man watch for the stick up, (prrrp)
G-O-D GOD flow
Don Juan de Marco, lot like car show
Feel for ya, nobody to kill for ya
Wanna tell ya story but guys won't bear with you
And nah, I ain't tryna get bread wit you
So go and tell yo bitch to split the bill wit you
I'm countin commas, tryna die with honor
Took some cake home, pills smoking marijuana
Corner block cuz yo boy owe us
Young boy shooter like Jamal Coffey
Bricks in the basement, givin niggas spaces
Clips in the Matrix, slid with the waitress
5 stars tell em, said she 16
Nah that's R. Kelly, my niggas war ready
Gifted and cursed, next step could be the worse
Next coupe could be ya hearse
Man this shit hard when it hurt though
My niggas slingin hard in front of church doors
Man slingin hard was the first tour
Now it's H. Fraud on a surf board
I be clean as a whistle
Team is official
Black and white diamonds, all I need is a whistle

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, f*ckin with the kids
He ain't gon stop til you pluck him with the SIG
Lost 100 thou, f*ckin with the Knicks
Flyin on a brukler, bucket full of bricks
Last night club, f*ck it, where the bitch
Cuz money in the field but I f*ckin with the 6
Words of advice, run through the game
Niggas know the hood run through my veins
Real subtle with great poise
Pure bundles, a straight boy
Smoke loud, make noise
Dream Team, rafe boys
RIP Darry D and Nutty aka Troy

D block & Coke Boys
F*ck wit me
Harry Fraud's a bad motherf*cker
This shit is stupid

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