Nhạc sĩ: Karim Kharbouch | Lời: Karim Kharbouch
Lời đăng bởi: 86_15635588878_1671185229650
I want everybody to say, I'm a mother***in' coke boy, 1, 2, 3, I'm a mother***in' coke boy. 1, 2, 3, I'm a mother***in' coke boy. Yeah, Montana. Ay, hit the game, put the wave in it. Go on, go on, tap your veins, put the needle in it. I'll snatch you by your head like an eagle did it. Shoot out with the police like a seagull 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. Everything that's gold ain't wood and glitter. I seen killers fold, fold, turn to killers. Had your money right, won the law cause. I seen my favorite rappers turn to corn balls. The best thing I did was let that pain hurt my feelings. Turn the pain into music, turn the music into millions. God jerked my first deal and I told him, suck a dick. Once I made my first meal, told him, *** a brick. Brick, brick, fire, brick, tell us empire. Lick by lick, going to sleep wide. Had to learn taxes, help you relax. If you don't own your math, your classes turn to ashes. So hit the round table, count it all up. I'll get the brown bag, count it all up. Caught them bad bitches, round them all up. Count it firstly, count it all up. Millionaires, bitch, hit them all up. International superstar, you know I'm not. Take me in, in those whiskey eyes. Your words and your face, I know they're all lies. I'll fall, I'll fall for you. And there's nothing I can't do. This here killing with success, toe tag, yo. Name of Hollywood, bitch, I ain't rag, yo. I promise, that pressure turn to diamonds. The karma turn to commas. If that block taught you eye to eye. See your dreams in the bottle. Youngest turn to popper. Trips out the cobble. DC with a model. That's Tammy from Miami. Put her face on the white, black salsa. Come and get a close up. I'm on the post like a power port. From the hoodies to the time port. Big up for the sticker. They wanted me to hiccup. I copped a bit over sticker. About to come and fake your check up. Gladiator theme music with casino suits. Godfather trilogy, Al Pacino shoes. This that Demi Block before he killed Carlito. This that Larry Davis before he caught the Rico. Them Bronx streets, Teflon fleece. In the jungle while you're holding hands on Palm Beach. We was climbing fences. We was playing benches. One time for my bitches. Naked on the trenches. European boots. European suits. African diamonds. My niggas shine. My nigga Chinkson became my own son. The block where I'm from it needs your own gun. Devil helped me up figuring that I'd convert to God. Took my crown from the pavement and aimed it at the stars. Swag driven by the leader. Four ounce of perc. The game ain't for the weak. Go and play the church. Off the Mary Jane pill. Silk dick smoke coffee. Riding all these suckers that oppose us. Balling took the wisdom from the ref and made my own calls. From the piers got my homie on a phone call. No work money goes under the mattress hole. Hands clean got some youngins that'll back it for us. Reli skating bunch of conflict diamonds on us. Made my vow to the game. Boy that's matrimony. There's nothing I can't do.