[Intro: French Montana] On the count of three I want everyone to say it (Rock party) Hold up, baba On the count of three I want everyone to say it "I'm a mothafuckin' coke boy" 1, 2, 3 I'm a mothafuckin' coke boy
[Chorus] You lured me in with those whiskey eyes You'll tell me things, I know they're all lies I'll fall, I'll fall for you And there's nothin' I can't do
[Verse 1: French Montana] Yo, Montana Ayy, hit the game, put the wave in it Go, go on tap your veins, put the needle in it I-I snatch you by your head like an eagle did it Shootout with the police like Sigel did it Middle of the streets like The Beatles did it Can't be in it when you leave, or they leave you in it Ev-Everything that's gold ain't what it glitter I seen killers fold for certain killas Have your money right when the law costs I seen my favorite rappers turn to cornballs The best thing I did was let that pain hurt my feelings (Turn the pain into music) Turn the music into millions, haaan Got jerked my first deal, and I told 'em "Suck a dick" Once I made my first mil', I told them "Fuck a brick" Brick, brick by brick, 'til it's empire L-l-lick by lick, gone a sleepwire Had to learn taxes, help you relax If you don't own your masters, your classes turn to ashes So hit the round table, count it all up Or get the brown bag, count it all up Call the bad bitches, round 'em all up Count it first, we can count it all up Millionaire bitches, hit the mall up (International superstar)
[Chorus] You lured me in with those whiskey eyes You'll tell me things, I know they're all lies I'll fall, I'll fall for you And there's nothin' I can't do
[Verse 2: French Montana] They said kill 'em with success, toe tag ya up N-n-name a Hollywood bitch I ain't rag up P-p-promise, the pressure turn to diamonds The karma turn to commas If the block told you eye to eye Seeing dreams in a bottle The younger son of Pablo Trips out to Cabo, D.C. with a model That's Tammy from Miami, put her face on the white like Sosa Come and get a close up I'm on the post like the power forward From the hoodies to the Tom Ford Big up, f-for the stick up They wanted me to hiccup I copped the Bent' over sticker A- about to come and pick your chick up Gladiator theme music with Casino suits Godfather trilogy, Al Pacino shootin' This that Benny Blanco 'fore he killed Carlito This that Larry Davis before he caught that Rico Them Bronx streets, Teflon fleek In the jungle, while you holdin' hands in Palm Beach We was climbin' fences, we was playin' benches One time for my bitches, naked on the trenches European boots, European suits African diamonds, my niggas shinin' My nigga Chinx son became my own son The block where I'm from, you need your own gun
[Verse 3: Chinx] Devil held me up, figured that I'd convert to God Took my ground from the pavement and aimed it at the stars Swag drippin' by the liter, four ounce of purp' The game ain't for the weak, go and play the church Off the Mary Jane, pills, syrup, thick smoke, coughing Ridin' on these suckas that opposed it Ballin', took the whistle from the ref and made my own calls From the pens, got my homie on the phone call No work, money goes under the mattress only Hands clean, got some youngins that'll back it for me Really skatin' budget, conflict diamonds only Made my vow to the game, boy, that's matrimony
[Chorus] You lured me in with those whiskey eyes You'll tell me things, I know they're all lies I'll fall, I'll fall for you And there's nothin' I can't doTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
